


How To Make An Angel Fall

by My_floaty_coaty_boy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dragon Castiel, F/F, HTTYD - Freeform, M/M, and a dragon form, angels are dragons p much, cas has a human form
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 11:47:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13681068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_floaty_coaty_boy/pseuds/My_floaty_coaty_boy
Summary: Dean Winchester had lived on the isle of Lawrence his entire life. It was beautiful: Tall peaks and deep valleys meant that no two sceneries were alike, and lush greenery meant farming was a breeze. All types of cattle were reared for all purposes, from milk and clothes from the coats to food from the meat and jewelry made from the horns. The citizens of Lawrence were fortunate that the animals were easy to breed, for Angel attacks would often strip them of over half the herds.One fateful example of an attack such as this is where Dean’s fate truly began, where his future title would be earned. Where our story begins.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HAHAH im back with something that ISNT cursed or not HAHAHA im sorry

_Dean Winchester had lived on the isle of Lawrence his entire life. As had his father, John the Commander, and his father before him. The same went for his brother, Samuel, and indeed the entirety of their tribe. The eldest Winchester held the proud title of Chief of their tribe, known as the Hunters. Dean was his eldest son and from the moment he, as a babe, had opened his green eyes he had been his father’s most treasured possession. Until his brother was born, of course, as from then on no man could pick between the two which was the favourite._

_When Dean was four, when Samuel was six months from her womb, their mother was murdered. Samuel had been resting in his crib when Mary Winchester had burned at the bitter and evil hands of a fallen Angel. John had killed the beast instantly, but not before Dean had gripped his brother and run with him outside to the safety of John’s closest friend, a blacksmith named Bobby Singer._

_This, unfortunately, was not an uncommon occurrence. It seemed as though the Hunters had been at war with the Angels, both fallen and not, since before time began. The fight had born grievances on both sides, though none as mourned as this. The ceremony to guide Mary’s spirit to the afterlife was attended by the entire island._

_But that was years ago. Dean is closing his fifteenth year when this story truly begins. Samuel is eleven, and Dean’s best friend and charge, when John is away. Soon, Dean will be expected to kill his first Angel and become a true Hunter, just as every citizen of the isle had done or would do when they came of age._

_However, Dean is small for his age, and ailed with a clumsiness that made it difficult for him to navigate the heavy weaponry that Hunter’s used to kill Angels. Even when he could lift the shields or swing the swords or fire the cannons, bad luck followed him like a putrid stink and would often cause accidents by his hand. For this reason, he had spent his latest years in the employ of Bobby Singer, as a trainee blacksmith. He got up, went to work, got home, and was forbidden from leaving again by his father until the next morning._

_Lawrence was a wonderful island. Tall peaks and deep valleys meant that no two sceneries were alike, and lush greenery meant farming was a breeze. All types of cattle were reared for all purposes, from milk and clothes from the coats to food from the meat and jewelery made from the horns. The citizens of Lawrence were fortunate that the animals were easy to breed, for Angel attacks would often strip them of over half the herds._

_One fateful example of an attack such as this is where Dean’s fate truly began, where his future title would be earned. Where our story begins._

 

The Angel’s had appeared from nowhere. One moment everything was peaceful, the next sheep were being stolen by great swooping things, and buildings were being destroyed by the thing’s powerful Grace.

Angels, in their truest forms, were disturbing. Hulking beasts with leathery skin and glowing eyes, some with many wings, all with at least two. Some had many eyes on their many heads, or many hands on their many arms, or sharp ridges and cutting claws. Some rested on four legs, some on two, some on many more. But all were fearsome, and all were targets for the Hunters.

And a herd of them were attacking Lawrence.

Dean burst from his home, clutching Sammy in his arms as the young one couldn’t quite run as fast, both of them dodging the paths of the brutish and battle-ready Hunters as they defended their land against the monsters. As the brothers ran, they could hear the admonishments of their people, telling them to get inside somewhere safe and leave this to them. But Dean knew where he had to go.

He was only stopped in his journey when their father caught them.

“ _Dean!”_ John yelled, grabbing his arm. “What are you doing out here? Get inside, both of you!” Then he shoved him away with a promise that they’d talk about this later.

Dean kept running with Sam as behind them John launched a food cart at a passing Angel, causing it to fly off course. Dean knew each type of Angel as he saw it: Cherubs, mostly, but also Thrones and Fallers. These were the most common breeds of Angels, bound to their true forms. Only the more powerful and rare forms of Angel’s could escape these forms and become something resembling human.

Dean took Sam to the Blacksmith’s, where Bobby was bringing a hammer to a glowing hot sword.

“Nice of ya to finally join us, Dean.” He grumbled, not unkindly, as Dean dropped his brother and told him not to touch a thing. “I was beginnin’ ta think you’d been swiped away.”

“Who, us? Nah, We’re way to strong for that!” Dean grinned and began handing newly-forged weapons to the Hunters that appeared at their window. He could see a house just ahead of their shop burn when hit with a blast of Grace, but was distracted when someone ran past. The other kids of the village, all baring the weight of a large barrel of water, led by Charlie the Red and Joanna the Fierce. He saw Ash, Max and Alicia, the other teenagers, all much stronger than he, gathering their forces and buckets to extinguish the fires before they could spread. He allowed himself to feel a touch of envy as he busied himself with the job he’d been given, inside, as far away from any danger as possible.

“I’ll be right back!” He called, making his way as fast as he could to the door before Bobby’s strong grip held him still. “C’mon, Bobby, please let me out! I need to do this!”

“No, what you need to do is help me help the village and stop your brother from slicin’ himself up on somethin’ that doesn’t look dangerous.”

“Please? Two minutes, not even that, I’ll kill and Angel, my life will get better, I might even make some friends.” Dean hissed angrily.

“Oh, yeah? You can’t aim a swingin’ sword, you can’t lift a hammer, you can’t throw _this_ ,” Bobby held up a Bola shot, three steel balls tied together with rope, before passing it through the window where someone grabbed it and threw it. It spun through the air rather depressingly (from Dean’s point of view,) and curled itself around the four legs of a Cherub. The thing fell and was killed almost instantly by a heavy blow.

“B-But I can use this!” Dean gestured to his project. A large slingshot, made of wood, sat in the corner of the shop. He’d designed and built it in a process that had taken months. He laid a had on it and instantly the thing launched, sending a bola through the window and harmlessly into a building. Oops.

“ _See_? That ain’t gonna kill an Angel before it kills one of us!” Bobby raised his voice, as if that would get a member of the famously stubborn Winchester clan to back down.

“That was just a mild error! I can fix it!”

“ _No, Dean._ If you want to fight the Angels, you need to get better at… _this_.” Bobby waved a hand at him. “Stop tryin’ ta change things an’ just do it the way we’ve always done it!”

“But that’s not winning this fight! We need to get better, hit them with things they’ve never seen before!” Dean exclaimed

“No, we _need_ to keep our weapons sharpened, and hit them with this!” Bobby laid a sword in his arms and pushed him towards the sharpening stone. Dean huffed angrily and began to press the steel to the stone, avoiding the sparks as they flew at him. One day, he’d kill an Angel. He’d do it with his own weapon and then he’d be appreciated. A Cherub would do it. A Throne might get him respected. A two-headed Angel, no matter it’s status, would make him admired. And what about a Dark Angel? They were the strongest of the Angels that attacked them. They would coat themselves in power and then bring themselves alight, using their forms as weapons to attack. Only the strongest and bravest faced the Dark Angel. One of those? One of those would get him loved. As if to prove his point, he could see John launch weapon after weapon at a Dark Angel to bring it down before plunging a sword deep into it’s gut. It was a gory scene.

But the ultimate prize? The thing that would get him remembered by his children’s children’s kids? Well, that would be an Angel no one had seen for seven generations. Their true forms were dark and shadowlike, but they were the most dangerous. The most agile.  The true Warriors of the Angels. The—

               “ _Seraph!”_

Someone screamed, and the scream left Dean’s blood cold. There was an explosion of blue flame, much more vivid than other Angel’s Grace, and people sprawled themselves to the ground to avoid being burned. A shadow moved as quick as a blink across the sky, only visible as it blotted out the stars. It turned and launched itself again towards an outpost built at the peak of the inhabited part of the village, and the tower crumbled as it hit with striking accuracy.

Dean turned to alert Bobby, but found he had already gone. Sam looked over at him with eyes as wide as a food cart’s wheels, and the brothers hauled Dean’s slingshot invention out behind the shop, Dean cradling as many bola shots as he could carry. He set up the weapon with practised speed as Sam sat below the launcher to wait for Dean’s instructions on where to guide it. The two had practised using the machine, but had yet to launch more than a pebble from the beach into the air. The would have to account for the extra weight of the bola shot. Dean loaded the slingshot, squinted through the aiming eyepiece and waited for the Seraph to show itself. He heard a screech, increasing in volume, and saw a star go dark. Then another. Then some more, until he could predict the smooth flightpath of the Angel, and aimed ahead of it. He saw an explosion, moved his cannon a tad to the right, and fired. It launched him backwards, but thanks to Sam, the slingshot stayed upright. The two watched as the bola shot flung itself thought the air, spinning dangerously, and hit something with a deafening screech. Like a shooting star, something fell to the ground, far off onto the other side of the island.

“…We hit it…Sam! _We hit it!_ Please tell me _someone_ saw that! _”_ Dean grinned and threw his hands in the air, and Sam dropped the cannon and flung himself over to his brother. The two cheered and celebrated, unknowingly drawing unwanted attention. A particularly large Dark Angel reared itself at them, and Sam tripped over his feet, falling hard onto the singed grass below them. The Angel inched closer.

“Except for you.” Dean sighed. The Angel’s eyes became slits and Dean felt the atmosphere change around it as it began to prepare its power. Dean hauled his brother up and dragged him though the village, but the Angel was hot on their heels, and now it was on fire, making their heels hot. Dean took Sam through tiny alleys between buildings and around as many hills as he could, making them difficult to follow, hoping that the Angel would deem them to be a waste of time. But as he looked back he could see them losing ground as the Dark Angel’s true form, with it’s many legs, traversed the scenery with ease, firing Grace at them as it went.

He pulled Sam behind a totem decorated with Anti-Angel markings, and the Grace curved around it. He clung to Sam, keeping him as close as he could to the pillar while still keeping them both behind it.

The Grace subsided and Dean peered around the totem. Sam screamed as the Angel peered around the other side, but Dean had no time to react as the Angel was tackled by none other than John the Commander. The Chief. Their father. The boys watched as John wrestled the Dark Angel, which had seemed to use up its immediate supplies of power, twisting its neck unnaturally. There was a sickening crack and the Angel went limp below him.

John clambered off the Angel with practised ease and glared at Dean. “Get. Inside. Now.”

“Ok, I get it, but dad, we hit a Seraph.” Dean laughed his last word disbelievingly, smiling reassuringly at his father. John grabbed his arm and tugged him though the village, Sam trailing behind them. “Dad! Dad, we really hit it! Everyone was busy, it was a clear shot! It fell down the other side of the island! We can find it if we just—”

“ _Stop!”_ John’s gruff yell echoed through the village like the bells before an execution. “I have enough to deal with without you making a mess! Every time you go outside, something bad happens. And this time, you brought Sam with you?! What happens if he can’t run that fast, Dean? Can you not see that it’s almost winter and I have to feed the entire village? I have things to do, and I can’t be worrying about you making mistakes when I’m not around!” John finished abruptly and sighed. “Why can’t you just do as I say?”

“I-I just…I don’t know, dad. I just…I see an Angel, and I have to kill it. But you won’t let me. This…This is what I am. I’m a Hunter.”

John put a hand to his face in exasperation. “Dean, you are many things. But an Angel killer? No. Take Sam back to the house and _stay. Inside._ ” John turned his address to the village. “Someone, make sure they get there!”

Bobby stepped up and put a hand between Dean’s shoulder blades, guiding him back home.

As they passed, Dean heard the mumbles of the other kids.

“ _Woah, that was incredible.”_

_“Yeah, did you see? Quite a performance.”_

What? They thought what he did was good? They must have seen him take down that Seraph. Maybe he could talk to them and—

“ _I’ve never seen anyone mess up that badly!”_

Oh. Dean hung his head, exhausted. He heard Bobby shove the kid, Jo, probably, to make her shut up, but she’d already said it. And she was right. He’d messed up.

As they climbed the hill to the Winchester residence, Dean spoke. “We really did hit one.” Sam nodded in agreement.

“Sure you did, Dean.” Bobby grumbled.

“He never listens to me--”

“It’s a family trait.”

“—and when he does, it’s always to tell me I’m wrong. It—It’s like…just ‘cause I’m not as tall as he was at my age, and I can’t swing a sword like he could, doesn’t mean I’m less than him.”

“You’re thinkin’ about this all wrong, Dean. It’s not that you’re weak. It’s just…The way you think.”

“Oh, so it’s not what’s on the outside, it’s my _personality_ that’s a disappointment! Well, that’s so much easier to fix!” Dean snarked and shoved the heavy wooden door open, holding it for Sam.

“Look, Dean, that’s not what I’m saying. Stop…Stop trying so hard to be what you think he wants you to be, and just…just be _you_. Who cares if you’re not an Angel killer, you could do something else to help us!”

“I don’t want to help you, I want to _be_ you!” Dean shook his head and let the door close behind him, leaving Bobby outside.

Then, he walked to the back of the house, where Sam was already waiting.

“Ready to find a Seraph?” Sam grinned.

“Yeah, let’s go, Sammy.” Dean ruffled his hair as he passed, making Sam groan in protest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOP

“The only way to end this war for good is to rid ourselves of every Angel alive. If we find the nest and destroy it, we will finally be able to live free from these beasts.”

The idea was met with applause, and John pulled out a map and placed it in front of him on the large table of the Village Hall.

The hall was huge, more of a barn for storing grain and livestock in winter, but it played host to all the meetings called by the chief.

John continued his point as if there was someone in the crowd who disagreed with him. “If we destroy their nest, they will either die with it or leave us to find another home.” He scooped up a dagger and planted it into the table though the map, where a simple drawing of clouds and Angels, both in their true and human forms, hid. “One more search before it gets too cold and the sea begins to freeze.”

“The ships we send to find the nest never come back!” Someone in the crowd protested.

“We’re hunters! Saving the village, killing Angels, it’s our tribe’s _business_! Now, who’s with me?!” He yelled.

The crowd remained silent, other than a few mutters.

“Fine. Those who stay can care for my sons. Don’t forget; if I die because I am alone, Dean will become chief of the village.”

The crowd’s murmurs grew, and most present raised their hands, volunteering.

“Yeah, I thought as much.” John grumbled.

The village began to filter out, but John grabbed Bobby’s attention before he could leave. “I need you to train the kids.”

“Oh, ‘course. And leave Sam and Dean in charge of the stall? Molten rock, all my tools, plenty of time to themselves, everything’ll be fine!” Bobby snorted.

John sighed. “What am I gonna do with ‘em, Bobby? Sam? He’s still young, he’ll copy whatever Dean does. What if Dean does something that get’s them both killed? What would Mary say?”

Bobby grunted. “Put Dean in training with the others. Sam will watch and learn until he’s ready to fight.”

“No, Bobby, really. I’m serious. What—”

“I’m serious too, John!”

“He’d be killed before you even let the first Angel out!”

“Oh, c’mon, you don’t know what’ll happen!”

“But I know _him_. He’s different. I take him fishing, but he’d rather swim with them! I’d take him to the farm, but he’d sooner sing with the rooster than kill it! And Sam is the same! He’d rather read about the world than experience it!”

“Oh, that’s not true.”

John exhaled. “When I was a boy, I followed orders. If my father told me to bang my head against a stone, I’d do it. I’d think it crazy, but I wouldn’t dare question him. I did it, and that rock broke. It taught me what a Hunter could do, Bobby.  We have the power to crush rocks, tame seas. We have power over nature, s’long as we respect it. Even as a boy, I knew who I was, who I was meant to become. Dean…Dean isn’t the same. Or Sam. Neither of them is a true warrior.”

Bobby stayed silent for a moment. “If today has shown you anything, John, it’s that you can’t stop either of them. But you can make sure they’re prepared. You won’t always be here, and they’re going to get out again. Hell—They’re probably out there now! But if you can make sure they can handle themselves, then you needn’t worry as much.”

After a moment, John nodded. “Fine. Put Dean in classes. Teach Sam the basics, but don’t let him go near an actual Angel.”

~*~*~*

Dean’s sigh quickly turned into a groan of anger as Sam marked another black ‘x’ on the map of the island in his grip. The dotted arrow Dean had drawn projecting the path the Seraph had made when it fell indicated that it should have landed here, somewhere in the forest in an area named Stull Point.

But they’d checked everywhere, seemingly. And still no Angel. He followed Sam as the younger Winchester led them through undergrowth and across clearing, marking tiny black ‘x’s everywhere. “How long does this take?!”

“Well, it must be _somewhere_.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Maybe not. Maybe we just dreamed it— _Gods_! Why us? Some people lose a knife, or a flask! Not us, oh no! we lose an _actual_ _Angel_! And not just _any_ Angel, just the one that no-one’s seen since our great-great-great- _great­_ grandfather was a baby!” Dean, in his anguish, failed to notice that Sam had pushed a branch aside to pass, and was suddenly hit across his cheek by it when it flicked back to it’s natural position. “ _OW!”_

Then, to his great annoyance, he bumped into Sam. “Don’t stop in the middle of the—oh.”

Sam had stopped because this wasn’t a path, as Dean had thought. It was a trail. Left by something large that had fallen at speed. Tree branches lay ripped from their trunk and the mud was smooth and bare of foliage where the body of the beast had cleared the way.

Dean grinned and grabbed Sam’s wrist. “C’mon!”

He led Sam across the trail, slippery now it was void of its footholds and purchases. There was a crest in a hill, and as Dean peered over it, he saw the true form of a Seraph. He pulled Sam down below the top of the hill, but when nothing pounced at them, he peered back up.

The figure lay with it’s back to them, skin dark among the streaks of mud it had collected. Large, dark, feathery wings sprouted from its shoulder blades, and Dean could see where one had hit the ground and been torn. It had a scaly hide, and a long tail. It’s head, at least in this form, looked like that of a large lizard, the ones Dean often saw near rivers. Its limbs were tied in the rope of a bola shot. Keeping Sam’s head down, Dean pulled out his knife, holding it unsurely in his left hand.

“Sammy, stay here.” Dean hissed, not taking his eyes from the subdued but all too human form in the foliage.

“ _What?!_ But you—”

“Just for a minute, OK? Just let me check it out, first.” Dean ducked back down to be at Sam’s eye level, imploring his brother to listen.

Sam met his brother’s eyes, searching for any hint of deception. Finding none, he relented. “Fine.”

Dean nodded and made his way over the hill, skilfully sliding down the other side and coming to a stop behind a large boulder closer to the Angel. He edged around the rock, pulling his knife, now in his stronger hand, back, ready to plunge it into the beast. As he got closer, he saw the scales on it’s body reflect a pale blue glow. It might have been beautiful if it wasn’t so deadly.

When it didn’t move, he began to speak, mostly to himself. “We did it! This…this fixes everything! OK, Dean, OK, you got this, you can do it, how difficult can this be? It doesn’t even look dangerous.” He rested his foot on the creature’s ribs gently, trying to pull it over to see it’s face. But as soon as he put any weight behind the movement, the creature groaned loudly and shifted. It’s breathing was heavy, now, but it was still constricted, so Dean oved closer, glancing back to check Sam had stayed put. Dean peered over it’s wings. It’s eyes opened, and Dean saw more shades of blue than he could name, and a dark, elongated pupil. But the creature didn’t move. Dean held his knife, ready to plunge it into the beast’s body.

“I need to do this. I’m gonna kill you, and I’m gonna cut you open and take your heart and take it to my father and he’ll not doubt me or Sam anymore. We’re hunters. We are hunters. We are hunters!” He drew the knife up and the beast grunted in protest and fear and it was still staring at him, why was it still staring like that, he had to stop his hands shaking. He steeled himself and the Angel moaned sadly and rolled itself over, as if giving up.

But he still couldn’t do it. He lowered the knife. “I did this.” He stepped away, suddenly full of shame and guilt. He heard Sam behind him as he knelt to cut the rope binding the creature.

As the sound of sawing rope filled the air, however, the creature’s eyes flew open, and as soon as it could, it rolled onto it’s four legs and pounced at its closest attacker.

Dean shoved Sam away, seeing his brother hit the ground unharmed, but had no time to save himself. The Seraph shoved him into the boulder he’d used as cover, one of it’s heavy scaled feet covering his entire chest. It growled at him, glaring, but stayed still for moments. He could see Sam start to move, but waved his hand for him to still, not wanting to alarm the creature and draw its attention back to the younger one. The creature’s eye contact with him didn’t break, and it drew up, ready to crush him and—

It _screamed_.

It was loud, and it’s breath stank of fish, and Dean was coated in Angel saliva, but he didn’t care because the Angel pushed off of him and stalked over to Sam. Dean could only watch as it huffed angrily at him and launched itself through the trees in an attempt to fly away. But something was evidently wrong; as it flew it hit tree after tree and any rock in it’s erratic path, before falling into the Cove at the base of the hill.

Dean groaned and let his head fall back, breathing heavily.

They were alive.

They were safe.

They’d caught an Angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> drop me a thing on tumblr, @whynotdosomethinggreat  
> comment plssssss


	3. Chapter 3

When the brothers got home, John was there. Dean took Sam’s hand and pulled him around the edge of the room to the stone stairs in the wall, towards their bedroom. He put a finger to his lips to urge Sam to be quiet, but the only got about half way when John spoke.

“Boys.”

“Dad.” The brothers said, almost in sync.

“I have something to tell you, dad.” Dean said, biting his lip.

“Good, I have something I need to tell you, too.” John turned to fully face his sons, now sitting on the stairs to be at eye level with him.

Dean took in a breath. As did John.

 “I’ve decided I don’t want to fight Angels.”

“I think it’s time or you to learn how to fight Angels.” They spoke in unison, but their speech contrasted greatly. “What?” John huffed a laugh. “You go first.”

“No, it’s OK, what did you want to say?”

“OK…You get your wish. Your Angel Training starts in the morning. Sam will watch your classes and can learn the theory, but I don’t want him to fight an actual Angel yet.”

“Oh, well, maybe I should have gone first,” Dean smiled awkwardly, “’Cause, y’know, we have lots of Angel-killing hunters, but do we have enough…­ _baker_ hunters, o-or… _mechanic_ hunters?” Dean fumbled awkwardly, but John wasn’t listening as he handed Dean an axe.

“You’ll need this.”

“B-But I don’t want to fight Angels!”

“Oh, yes you do, Dean, it’s all you’ve talked about forever!”

“OK, well, I _can’t_ kill Angels.”

“Well, that’s why you must learn! It’s time you did. Listen, when you carry this axe, you are a Hunter. You talk like us, think like us, _be_ us. No more of… _this_.” He waved a hand at Dean somewhat dismissively. “Deal?”

“Do I get a say?” Dean mumbled angrily.

“ _Do we have a deal?”_ John’s voice raised, and Dean knew what he had to say.

“Deal.”

John shouldered a bag and grabbed his sword before walking to the door. “Good. I’ll be back soon. Care for your brother.”

“I will, dad.”

The door closed behind him.

 

~*~*~*~*~*

The Angel-training arena was nothing too grand. A dipped oval in the rocky area between the village and Stull Point Forest. It had a metal grid arching over the oval so Angels could not escape and no one could fall in. Racks of shields and weapons adorned the walls, and a huge iron gate took up a block of the curved arena, leading to where captured Angels were kept. Opposite the gate was a similar door, but this one led out, towards the village. Wooden slats on the outside of the arena made for a good place to watch the training. This is where Sam sat now.

Dean made his way through the gates into the arena, along with his fellow trainees. Jo, Ash, Charlie, Max, and Alicia.

“Right, let’s get started, no point jus’ standin’ here talkin’. The recruit who does best over the next few weeks gets the honour of killin’ you first Angel in front of the entire village.”

“But, Bobby, Dean already killed a Seraph! Does that disqualify him?” Jo’s sickly-sweet voice mocked him, but Dean tried to ignore her, even when Max and Alicia, the twins, laughed.

 Bobby pat Dean’s shoulder, grumbling, “Don’t worry, Dean. The others are more aggressive, which means the Angel will probably go after them.” Then he turned to address the entire group, mindful of Sam’s position outside. “Behind this gate is one of the types of Angels you will learn to fight—A Cherub,”

“--Small but heavy, slow but strong.” Dean heard Jo mutter to herself.

“An Aasimar,” Bobby continued,

“—One head to accumulate the power, another to trigger it’s launch,” another mumble,

“—A Dark Angel—”

“Shot count of four, before it runs out of Grace for an hour—”

“And a Fledgling.”

“Small, but fast, venomous.”

Bobby reached for the latch of the gate, ready to reveal whatever Angel they’d be fighting this lesson.

“Wait, wait, aren’t you gonna teach us, first?” Ash’s eyes were wide.

“You’ll learn.” Bobby opened the gate, and the small trueform of a Cherub launched itself from its cage. Its wings fluttered quickly to keep itself up as it moved with force towards them. The group scattered, and Bobby yelled, “If you get hit, you’re dead, so don’t get hit! What’s the first thing you’ll need?”

“A doctor?” Dean mumbled, finding himself below Sam’s spot. His brother snorted.

“A weapon!” Jo growled, launching herself towards an axe on the wall.

“A _shield_!” Charlie yelled. Bobby pointed at her in confirmation and the group launched towards the section of the wall with the shields. They grabbed all they could, but Max and Alicia grabbed the same shield, beginning a tug of war between them. A bolt of Grace hit their shield, blasting it from their grip.

“You’re both out!” Bobby yelled. “As well as defence, those shields are good for a distraction! Make noise to throw off its aim!”

The group began to make criss-cross laps of the arena, hitting the shield with their weapons to make noise.

“All Angels have a limited amount of Grace before it’s depleted until they can rest! How many shots does a Cherub have?”

“Four?” Ash guessed.

“Six!” Jo yelled, narrowly avoiding the body of the Cherub as it flew past her.

Ash tripped as he ran, and the Cherub focussed on him, firing a shot. Ash rolled and held his shield up, but it was blasted away from him. He scampered away as Bobby proclaimed him ‘out’.

Dean, who had strategically placed himself behind a rack of weapons that hadn’t been bound to the wall, stepped out and was immediately shot at. He avoided it, just, and it swooped around to aim itself towards Jo and Charlie. The Cherub fired another shot, and Jo shoved Charlie away, getting herself hit, leaving Charlie and Dean left.

The Cherub spun and aimed at him. He tried to once again dodge the blast, but this time it was too quick and blew the shield from his grip. He tried to run to the gate, like the others had done when Bobby had declared them ‘out’, but the Angel followed him. Another blast of Grace sent him sprawling, and he backed up as quick as he could, blood going as cold as the stone of the wall his back hit.

The Angel got close to him, preparing another shot, one that he wouldn’t survive. Dean covered his face just in time for the Cherub’s mouth to be pulled away. Bobby herded the beast back to it’s cage, but Dean still couldn’t move. The others gathered at the exit gate, and Bobby finished his lesson.

“Remember. An Angel will _always_ go for the kill. Do not show it a weakness it may deem exploitable.” He pulled Dean up, and opened the gate so they could leave. The other kids ran out, and Sam met him in the arena.

“Dean, are you alright?”

Dean waved him off. “Yeah, Sammy, I’m fine. I’m just…confused.”

“Why?”

“Well, you heard what Bobby said. If an Angel always goes for the kill, then…”

“…Then why didn’t our Seraph?” Sam finished, voice hushed as if anyone had waited for them.

Dean nodded. They had an Angel to visit.

~*~*~*~*~*

Dean sneered and kicked the bola shot that they’d left in the grass. “Fat lot of good you did us.”

“ _Dean, c’mon_!” Sam hissed, and Dean broke into a half-jog to catch up, overtaking Sam just as they got to the entrance of the Cove.

The Cove was surrounded with large white rocks, and had a tiny beach where the ocean water had leaked through the walls. To get to it, one either had to jump from the peak of the rocks to the shorter ones, like steps, slide down the overhanging tree roots, or find a passage between stones. This is what Dean had done, years ago. He would go here whenever he needed time alone, and since showing Sammy, they’d often go together. He wasn’t even sure if anyone else knew this was here. It was just their own forgotten piece of land.

As Dean shuffled through the gaps in the rocks, Sam behind him finding it much easier due to his smaller stature, he found himself wondering if the beat would still be there. Why wouldn’t it have flown away? Why did he feel that he’d be disappointed if it had? Would it attack them, if it was still there? Would it kill them this time?

As the Cove came into view, Dean found it sadly empty. He edged to the side so Sam could come out from between the rocks when a brittle crack sounded from under his boot.

A black scale, now broken. The more he looked at the scale, the more he could see pale blue light dancing on the surface. Sam nudged him and crouched to pick up another scale from where it had fallen, between smaller rocks. The two stared at the scale, vastly unprepared for a hulking shadow and large form to hit the rock above their heads. They flinched in sync as the Angel scrambled to grip the rocks and climb up, before falling and swooping to the other side of the clearing. Dean hopped down to the ground before Sam could stopping, leaving his brother to follow or stay.

Dean watched as the Angel launched itself from the ground to the rock walls again and again, trying and failing to escape. Sam landed beside him on a lower rock, pulling out his notebook to sketch the creature and note its movements.

Out of frustration, the Angel launched a shot of powerful blue Grace at the ground ahead of it before launching itself and falling once again.

Dean looked over at Sam’s drawing. “It’s wing is damaged, there.” He pointed to the left wing on Sam’s drawing, and after a second of observation Sam corrected it.

“Maybe that’s why it hasn’t flown away.” Sam hissed, matching his brother’s volume as below them the Angel fell awkwardly next to the water and lay, seemingly defeated, for a few moments. In front of it, a fish emerged from the surface of the water, for just a second. This caught its attention, and it slowly got to it’s feet and pounced at the water, coming up void of a catch. Dean sighed, accidentally jogging Sam. The pencil dropped from his grip, falling to the ground. The Angel’s eyes snapped to it, then up to the boys. It glared in recognition and the brothers froze. The Angel moved, and Dean, spooked by the day’s lesson, pulled Sam away and through the rocks again, leaving the Angel to its fishing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean shoved open the door to the Village hall, where the Angel-training group had made arrangements to meet and study earlier that day.

Jo was in the middle of analysing their fight, talking about how her dodges had been sloppy.

“No, no, you were great, Jo!” Charlie grinned reassuringly across the table and Ash rolled his eyes.

Bobby grumbled. “Jo’s right. You have to be tough on yourselves! One wrong move in a real fight and you could end up as Angel chow!”

Dean grabbed some food from the middle of the table and took a seat next to Charlie. “Now, where did Dean go wrong?”

“I showed up?” He huffed in dry amusement, and Max laughed.

“He didn’t get eaten?”

“You’re never where you should be.” Jo told him, and Dean rolled his eyes. As if that wasn’t his life’s story.

Bobby dropped a heavy book onto the table. “This is the Angel manual. Everything we know about every Angel we’ve discovered. Study this and you’ll have an advantage in the field.” Then he walked out.

“I’ve read it. One of you can have that copy.” Jo stood, evidently sick of just sitting, and followed Bobby out of the hall.

Max and Alicia shared a twin eye roll and finished their food before leaving. “We’ve got a copy.” Max nodded at the book and the two scampered back to their home. Ash proclaimed he’d read it more times than he could count, leaving Charlie and Dean alone.

“So…I guess we share?”

She shrugged. “Sure. I’ll have it every other day. You start.” Then she shoved her plate away and got up, leaving him alone.

“…Cool.” Dean sighed and picked up the book, retreating to his home to flick through the pages with Sam.

“ _Cherub: Small, heavy, slow, strong. Burns its victims. Kill on sight. Two-headed Cherub. Easy to confuse, but double the power. Buries its victims. Kill on sight. Kill on sight. Dark Angel: Lights itself on fire with Grace.  kill on sight. Two-headed Dark Angel, kill on sight. Fallen, yellow-eyes. Burns victims. Kill on sight.”_ Sam read from the book. The last entry made Dean shiver; he knew the story of his mother, everyone did. It wasn’t good, even now, to hear about her killer, it stung.

 Each variation of Angel class had an entry, most with small descriptions or drawings, or statistics. Every page finished with a big red scrawl, instructing the reader to kill as soon as they saw and Angel, no matter it’s type.

At some point during the night, it had begun to rain, and now thunder echoed though the sky like an Angel’s screech, and lightning lit up the clouds like Grace.

A particularly loud rumble made the boys jump.

“Fledgling. Guardian. Kill on sight, kill on sight. Seraph.”

“What does it say about the Seraph?

“…Do not engage. Do not attempt to kill, only hide and pray it does not find you.”

“That’s it?”

Sam held up the blank pages. Dean grabbed Sam’s notebook and opened to the page he’d written that day, in the Cove. “We wrote more today than seven generations of Hunters managed.” The brothers shared a look, and Sam closed the manual.

They had a lot to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> drop me a thing on tumblr, @whynotdosomethinggreat  
> comment to tell me what you thinkkkk


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah, whatever. I've got the chapters, i've got time to upload them, just take the whole fic

When Dean brought up the subject of the empty pages the next day in Angel training, Bobby told him to get out of the way of the Fledgling that swooped at him. Then he told them all that Fledgling was light on it’s feet and had incredible stamina.

For today’s lesson Bobby had laid out a tall maze, it’s walls constructed from tall planks of wood. Bobby stood outside the arena, next to where Sam sat. The Fledgling had spines on it’s tail that without waring it could shoot at a target. It decided to display this as Ash ran along a path that was too close to its perch above the wall, a little too close. His shield thankfully blocked them, and Bobby reminded them to look for a blind spot.

Max and Alicia turned a corner just as the Angel hopped to the ground in front of them. This fledgling had a large horn in the front of his face, blocking part of it’s vision. The twins stood stock still in this blind spot as the Angel tried to move it’s head to see them properly.

They ran and the beast chased them, not noticing when they rounded a corner to hide.

“So, how would we hide from a Seraph?” Dean called up to Bobby as Charlie ran past him. Sam looked at him and put his pencil to paper to write down the reply.

“No-one’s ever lived to tell the tale. Go!” Bobby shooed him further into the maze, closer to the Angel and his teammates.

“ _Dean_! Get down!” Jo hissed, tugging him between her and Charlie’s shields as the Angel rounded the corner. Jo and Charlie rolled past the creature, but when Dean tried, the Angel saw him and pounced. He scrambled up and the Angel hopped up onto the maze wall, landing in front of Jo and Charlie. Charlie shoved her out of the way and threw an axe that missed its target and hit the wall. Jo rolled her eyes and tugged the red-headed girl out of the way of the bolt of Grace that came their way. The Angel gave chase, but Jo turned a corner quickly, causing the Fledgling to hit the wall, knocking it over. The maze collapsed as the Angel jumped on the walls, giving them no cover from its attacks. Jo, in a panic, jumped for safety on a maze wall that quickly topped over. She fell onto of Dean and he hit the ground. Her axe collided with his shield, and when she failed to take them apart, she just threw the whole amalgamation at the Fledgling, making it whimper and back off, paying no mind to De’s protests. When she offered a hand to help him up, Max jeered.

“Ooh, I think she’s got a crush!”

Alicia joined in, sniggering, and Jo dropped him again, leaving him to get up on his own. Charlie grabbed her, looking over her to make sure she was alright, glaring at the twins and then at Dean.

“Good job, Jo!” Bobby called as the Angel limped away.

Charlie turned to him, having heard his protests at Jo’s attack. “Is this a joke to you? This is a war, Dean. Whose side are you on?” Then she stormed off.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean and Sam went to the Cove again that afternoon, both crouched behind a shield Dean had taken from the Blacksmith’s and a pouch full of their most recent fishing exploits. Protected by two monoliths and the shield, Dean reached into the pouch and pulled out the biggest fish, throwing it as far as he could into the Cove clearing. It fell a few feat ahead of them, and lay there, unclaimed. Dean edged forward, and the shield got stuck between the stones. He sighed heavily and ducked under it, helping Sam out. He scooped up the fish and walked further onto the small beach-y area, keeping Sam behind him

The Angel was missing, nowhere to be seen on the ground or the rocks around the Cove.

“ _Dean!”_ Sam yelped.

Suddenly the Angel was there, having hidden above them, on the rocks now holding the shield in place. It clambered down and Dean pulled himself between it and his brother.

The Seraph moved in a slow circle around them, putting itself near the water. Dean held the fish out to it, and the Seraph edged closer. He moved, and the Angel reared back, catching sight of a gleam of silver at Dean’s side. Dean pulled the dagger out, causing the beast to growl and ready itself to fight, but Dean showed it the blade, and then cast it aside, ignoring his brother’s hushed protests. Dean held the fish out again, and the Angel edged closer.

“Hey, buddy. Here…I bet you’re hungry, huh? What’s your name? Do Angel’s have names?” Dean inched closer, offering it the fish. The Angel pounced, grabbing it, and biting it in half. Then it shoved the other half at Dean, who took it, mostly out of reflex. Before he could react it edged closer to him, eyes thin as it sniffed and inspected him. He fell and backed himself against a rock, and when he did, the Angel turned to Sam. It ignored Dean’s whine of protest and stepped closer to the younger brother, then it looked between them. It sat up on it’s hind legs and tilted its head to the side, considering them. It glanced deliberately between Dean and the fish half, and Dean thought he understood.

“Y…You want to share?”

The Angel nodded, and glanced between them and the fish again.

 Dean looked down at the fish half in his lap and, with a small sound of displeasure, brought it to his lips. It smelled. He took a bite, trying his best to ignore the sliminess of the scales and the cold flesh beneath. He smiled at the creature, cheeks bulging. It made a swallowing movement. Dean sighed, mentally, choking down the fish flesh. Once he’d swallowed, he passed the fish to Sam. “Your turn.”

It was fun to see Sam try and hold in his own discomfort, and when they looked back at the Angel, it was smiling. Or…trying to smile. It looked more like a baring of its gums.

Dean reached out to the Angel, wanting to feel it’s scales. Would they be hard and unforgiving, like armour? Or soft like skin?  But as he got closer, it tumbled backwards, wings flapping desperately behind it to send it sprawling across the other side of the Cove. Dean watched as it used its grace to singe the grass beneath it and settled down.

He followed it, Sam trailing behind.

It looked up when he sat down in front of it. It huffed and covered its body with its wings, ignoring the damaged spots on the left one. Before either of the Winchesters could move, the Angel let out a long and loud call, and in a blinding flash of light, was left naked in its human form.

Dean stared, wide-eyed, but Sam reacted quickly. “Uh—” He fished in his own bag and pulled out a set of spare clothes, throwing them to the newly-transformed Angel. At Deans questioning look, Sam mumbled, “I didn’t want to get caught coming back from here if I fell and got dirty clothes.”

Dean looked back to see the Angel had pulled on the pants, that were perfect length for Sammy but only reached the Angel’s mid-calf, and was now struggling to get his arm through a sheepskin jacket.

“H…Hi?” Dean ventured.

The Angel’s eyes snapped to him, still a bright blue. Its head tilted again and it finally managed to shrug the coat on.

He put a hand on his chest. “I’m Dean. That,” he pointed to his brother, “that’s Sam. Do you have a name?”

The Angel squinted, and opened its mouth. “Name…” It’s voice was deep, the same as it’s true form’s.

Dean nodded, and pointed between them again. “Dean, Sam.” Then he pointed at the Angel. “You?”

The Angel pointed at himself, then seemed to catch on. “Castiel. Dean, Sam.” He pointed to them respectively, and Dean grinned.

“You speak English?”

Castiel squinted and shook his head, “A little. I speak Enochian, the language of Angels.”

Dean nodded. “We didn’t even know Angels had a language…”

Castiel scrutinised him for a moment, before jumping away, revealing Sam, hand still outstretched where the younger Winchester had tried to stroke Castiel’s wings. Sam smiled sheepishly at him and then looked at Castiel, who was eyeing them both suspiciously. “I’m still hungry.” The Angel said, rather absently, as if simply acknowledging the weather rather than expecting anything to come out of it.

“Uh, we can go and get you more food, if you want.” Dean offered, eager to get on good, or at least civil, terms with the creature.

Castiel stared at him and nodded, and Dean scrambled to his feet, grabbing Sam’s wrist and pulling him back. They’d go to the village, get some food, and come back later that night. Hopefully, Castiel would still be as willing to talk with them.

~*~*~*~

Dean ate his food with the other Angel-training recruits as fast as he could, and swiped a loaf of bread and some more of the stew, putting it in a bowl. “For Sam,” he excused himself, knowing full well that Sam was eating at Bobby’s that night.

They got back to the Cove in record time, and Castiel was in it’s true form again, tail slung over a branch, hanging upside-down and huddled in a cocoon of its wings. Dean could see even clearer now the damage done to one of them, the feathers ripped away, exposing scarred tissue underneath. When they came closer to it, it’s wings shifted, revealing its lizard-like features. It slipped onto the ground and considered them with wide and friendly eyes.

Dean put the stew down in front of it, and Castiel took the bowl and dragged it away, evidently not wanting an audience. Dean took Sam over to the water. They sat on rocks and began to draw in the sand with sticks.

Dean was absorbed in his drawing of Castiel’s true form when a curious growl rumbled next to them. Sam looked up, but Dean concentrated on finishing his drawing, all too aware of the way Castiel’s gaze followed the stick as it made trails in the sand. As he finished, Castiel slunk away, only to appear with a large branch in it’s mouth, making large and erratic trails that mimicked his own.

Maybe to its own mind, Castiel was creating a masterpiece, but Dean couldn’t see any reason for the lines as Castiel drew around both of them. Sam giggled and when Castiel dropped the branch to properly survey its work, Dean began to move towards it.

Castiel let out a low growl and Dean looked at his feet. His left foot had gone over one of the lines, so he lifted it up and the Angel’s growl relented. Dean moved his foot to the space in between the lines and glanced at Sam, who was grinning wildly.

“Race ya.”

“You’re on.”

So the brothers ran around Castiel’s drawing, carefully not stepping on any of the carefully-drawn lines, each eager to get all the way around and outside of the maze before the other.  Dean jumped over two lines, using his momentum to hop over another and—

\--and then he ran straight into Castiel.

The Angel grunted in surprise, having been watching the younger one, and looked down at him. It blew air at him indignantly, ruffling his hair. Dean reached up, and Castiel growled again, so he relented, leaving his palm facing the Angel, but more concerned with the fact the Sam had gone to play in the water. He watched his little brother jump in the gentle waves, and felt something bump his hand. He flinched, and turned to see Castiel, in its human form, lacing it’s own fingers between his. Their eyes met and Castiel grinned before pushing him away gently to go and splash Sam with its in-tact wing.

Dean never thought he’d get into a water-fight with an Angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment or drop me a line @whynotdosomethinggreat on tumblr


	5. chapter 5

At dinner the next night, Bobby regaled the trainees with stories of how Angels had once taken his friend Rufus’ hand, and then a week late, his foot.

“If I were him, as revenge, I’d’a taken the feet and hands of every Angel I came across!” Jo proclaimed in between mouthfuls of stew.

“No, no, it’s the wings you wanna take. Damage an Angel’s wing, and they won’t be able to fly in either human nor true form. If it’s bound to it’s true form, like Cherubs or Fledglings, then the tail works just as well. It might be able to fly, but it won’t be able to navigate itself. If you know it can change, always go for the wings. If it can’t fly, it can’t get away. A grounded Angel is an easy Angel to kill.”

When they finished eating, Bobby sent them off to their homes, with hints that tomorrow’s class would be a big one. Charlie gave him back the Manual before she left, apologising for the notes she’d left scrawled in the margins of the pages. Not that he minded.

They walked to the centre of the village together, as that was there they’d split up to go to their own homes.

“I’m gonna beat all you guys, you know that, right? I’m gonna kill that Dark Angel, in front of the entire village.” Max teased proudly.

This, of course, led to a bickering match between the other five of the group, and Dean took his chance to squirrel away. He had to tell Sam about Castiel’s wings. He had an idea about how to fix them. Unbeknownst to him, he didn’t manage to slip away unseen.

Jo looked after him, wondering what could be so important that he didn’t even say goodnight. But Dean wasn’t the only one being observed, and one member of the group looked between Jo and Dean’s retreating figure with a jealous tint to their gaze.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean opened Sam’s sketchbook to the page where Castiel’s true form had been drawn that first day.  He knew what he had to do.

He spent all night in Bobby’s shop, heating up and smoothing out metal sheets, and threading and painting canvas, plying nails from shields and weighing steel to melt. He forged links and broke a sweat, his hair and face dripping by the time he settled down to sleep early the next morning, satisfied with his work.

That morning, before his class, before Sam had even woken up, Dean went to the Cove, his achievement in hand and food pouch on his back.

“ _Hey, Castiel?”_ He called quietly, eyes searching carefully for the beast. _There._

Castiel was in its true form, curled below an overhanging tree. It emerged when it spotted him, and he dumped the food bag down, spilling its contents. “I brought breakfast. Hope you’re hungry.”

Castiel began to devour the fish with more speed than Dean thought possible, but recoiled suddenly from the pile after a few moments.

“What, what’s wrong?” Dean asked softly as Castiel glared at the offending food.

Dean followed the Angel’s gaze to a long, stripy snake-like creature. He scooped up the eel by the tip of its tail, and Castiel stumbled back, screeching loudly. “OK, OK, I’ll get rid of it. Here, see? Gone!” Dean threw the eel as far as he could away from the Angel, offering his bare hands towards it to show he had meant no harm. “It’s OK, buddy, I’m not a huge fan of eel, either.”

He hadn’t even finished his sentence before Castiel was back to gorging itself on the fish.

Which gave Dean the opportunity to fit the first prototype of the prosthetic wing. He made his way behind the Angel, struggling slightly as Castiel moved. But he managed to tighten the clasps around Castiel’s body, the sleeve fitting somewhat inelegantly over the part of the wing that was undamaged. He didn’t even notice when Castiel stilled and spread it’s other wing, so he was caught off guard when the Ange launched forwards, pushing off the ground. It was all Dean could do to hold on as tight as he could, but as Castiel beat it’s wings to stay up as much as he could, Dean noticed that the prosthetic wasn’t opening as it should. They began to fall, and Castiel seemed to have braced for a crash, but Dean shoved the prosthetic out and open and suddenly they were flying higher, and higher, and…

…Dean _really_ didn’t like heights.

 Castiel soared into the sky, manoeuvring dips and flips with near-expert precision. The Angel turned back over the Cove, flipping so Dean fell harmlessly into the water below them. He hadn’t even realised he was screaming until the water hit his tongue.

 As soon as Dean was on the ground, however, Castiel found it a lot more difficult to stay up. The prosthetic snapped shut and the Angel veered left and into the same water it’d dropped Dean in.

“How’d _you_ like it?!” Dean yelled at Cas from the other side of the water. Cas rolled it’s eyes and huffed before clambering out and shaking off.

It seemed as through Dean had a fair few improvements to make.

~*~*~**~

In Dean’s class that day, Bobby had them pair up. Charlie grabbed Jo’s hand, and after some arguing, Alicia was told she couldn’t pair with her twin, so joined forces with Dean, which left Ash with Max.

Bobby opened the gate, and putrid pale blue clouds came pouring out.

“Now, Aasimars are _particularly_ tricky. Four wings, and two heads: one to eject pure Grace, the other to ignite it.”

The three teams stood back to back, clutching buckets of water to their chests, ready to drench the first sight of Angel they got.

Dean scanned the clouds quickly as he and Alicia turned, and flinched when he heard a splash of water and a yell.

“I’m not an _Angel_ , you idiot!” Charlie’s voice came from the left of them, so Dean focussed on that.

“Could’a fooled me!” Came Max’s somewhat weak reply.

Alicia moved to find the others, but before she could, Dean saw what they were looking for.

A yellow-eyed, many-teethed Angel true form, it’s neck long, it’s other head hidden. He yelped reflexively, almost dropping his bucket and alerting the others to the beast’s presence.

Ash panicked and threw the water, only to discover that this was, in fact, the wrong head. He got Grace fired at him at too close a range, and Bobby yelled for him to get out. So he ran.

The Angel, now fully exposed as the Grace subsided with Ash’s movement, glared at them. The other head was close to Dean, so he threw the water. It was close, only a few…feet…out.

Now void of any defence or attack methods, Dean did the only thing he could think to do. He threw the bucket, which collided with one of the Angel’s heads, which instead of making it back off, only made it angrier. It screamed at him and he fell to the ground, scrambling to his feet as quick as he could. Bobby screamed for him, and Charlie lunged to try and draw the Angel’s attention away.

But Dean knew he could do this. He stood to his full height and waved his hands, keeping the Angel’s attention, thanking the Gods that he’d picked up the eel that had made Castiel recoil before leaving the Cove that morning. He herded the Angel back to it’s cage and slid the eel from his jacket to throw it at the Aasimar, ensuring it wouldn’t come near the gate as it shut. “Help me close it!” He called, relieved when Jo and Alicia, slammed the doors shut on the Angel and the Eel.

He turned to look at the group, stunned as they were to see him control an Angel on his own. “A-are we done? I need to…uh, Sam needs to…OK, yeah, see you tomorrow!” Then, making sure Sam was following him, he ran.

Over the course of the next few hours, he worked some more on Castiel’s prosthetic and explained to Sam how h knew the eel would work. Sam was a little downtrodden that Dean visited their Angel without him, but he got over it fairly quickly.

In the shop, Dean pondered a way to make sure that the wing he’d made could be adjusted mid-flight. He worked exclusively for Castiel’s true form, aware that Angels tended to present more that way as it was stronger, and easier to fight if attacked.

Eventually, he produced a saddle, of sorts, with a tether controlled by a rope that could contract and expand the wing when required.

 However, when he presented this to Castiel, in its human form, Castiel snorted and transformed for the sole purpose to run away, leaving Dean with a disadvantageous two legs to run after the Angel.

When Castiel did let him fit the saddle and prosthetic again, though, they were flying in no time. After a quick practice lap of the Cove, the swooped back down to pick Sam up, then they were off again, until Dean jerked his hand too hard on the rope and the wings moved asynchronously and the plunged into the water.

So, it was back to the drawing board. Dean worked studiously, and after a few more failed attempts, mostly of his part, they crashed into a field of long grass. Dean found Castiel a few feet away, rolling on the grass like it was the best thing in the world. Sam named it ‘Angel-Nip’, and Dean resolved to use it in his classes.

And to learn how Castiel moved its wings during flight, so he could mimic and predict the actions before they came.

They went on like this for days. Dean would take Sam to his classes, use whatever tips he’d picked up while caring for Castiel to subdue and peacefully control the Angels, and then they’d go to the Cove and hang out. They’d teach Castiel some more English, (Sam hit dean when Dean taught him how to swear,) and Castiel explained more to them about Angelkind.

They learned that Castiel could stay in his (Sam had asked, and Cas didn’t mind being called ‘his’,) human form, but it was weak and Castiel didn’t see much point in using up the Grace needed to transform if it just meant he’d be weaker. That being said, Dean noticed that Castiel was human a lot more when they were around, unless they were flying.

The Angel taught them some Enochian, and Dean used it in lessons to tell the creatures to calm down and listen to him. He used the Angel-Nip to lure a Cherub into its cage, and realised that there was a spot just behind an Angel’s true form’s head that made them practically faint with joy, a useful tip for subduing an Angel that Charlie threw an axe at the next day. The kids in his class began to respect him, Jo even hugged him once, although it had been after he’d gotten her out of the way of a Fledgling as it fell.

As he read up on the Angels, he learned that there were symbols you could paint on an Angel’s skin to lessen its power, and although these were difficult to employ in the arena, he learned them, just in case. They came in handy when Castiel seemed to get the Angel equivalent of a cold, accidentally firing bolts of Grace every time it sneezed. (Sam was more amazed that Castiel could sneeze in his true form, which made the Angel laugh.)

Their classes began to gain attention from the village, and soon it wasn’t just Sam watching from outside the arena, other Hunters took time from their days to watch their training.

It wasn’t just in the arena, either; Dean found that the others wanted to sit by him at dinner and ask him questions, or be paired with him during a class, or hang out with him afterwards (although he never took them up on this offer, he’d much rather spend time with Castiel, who even when he was bad at this still looked at him fondly.)

He found that if he used a piece of glass to reflect sunlight onto the ground, Castiel was near hypnotised by it. This particular trick proved to be useful in one particular class, when Bobby introduced them to a new type of Angel: a Weeper. This Angel was small, and when it emerged from its vastly oversized cage, Ash laughed.

“It’s tiny! I could step on it and _aHH--!!”_

The Angel pounced on his face, bringing him to the ground mostly out of shock. While Ash screamed for someone to get the Angel off of him, Dean climbed to the top of a weapon rack and caught the sun on his axe, shining a guiding light to lure the creature back to its cage, whispering fragments of Enochian to it as it went.

That afternoon, Jo invited Dean to eat lunch with her and talk training. He reluctantly agreed, his mood only slightly soured when Charlie stomped past them, shouldering him ungently out of the way.

After they’d eaten and Dean had explained that Angels despised the smell of eels, Sam pulled him away.

They were walking through the village towards the Cove when Charlie saw them. She put down her whittling knife and the driftwood she’d been fiddling with and puked up the book that was at her feet, coming to a stand.

She began to call out to them, but something about the way the brothers whispered and acted all-too-innocently when someone passed them gave her pause. She decided to follow them. If Dean was cheating somehow in classes, she would be the one to stop him.

As they made their way through Stull Point forest, Charlie followed, taking cover behind rocks and large mounds of foliage. As the village grew smaller and further away, the Winchester’s voices grew.

“Did you do anything to Cas’s wing for today?”

“Nah, I think it’s good, but I did study up on flight patterns, so that should make it easier.”

Charlie crept forward, eager to pick up their conversation without being spotted.

“Do you think he’ll teach us any more Enochian?”

“I’m sure if you ask nicely.” Dean sighed, but Charlie could hear the smile in his voice. “now, c’mon, hurry up.”

Charlie peered over the edge of the boulder she’d hidden behind, only to find that the brothers had disappeared into the forest. She grunted angrily and vowed to follow them next time.

~*~*~*~*~

Deans studying proved effective as the brothers and the Angel soared around the back of the island, Dean concentrating on how Castiel moved his wings and making small sketches on a scrap of paper to remind himself how he had to move to compensate. Their series of short flights proved to be mostly successful, though Sam did graze his knees after a particularly powerful fall. Dean decided for all of them that until they got flying perfected, Sam would have to wait to ride.

One night, with Castiel in human form, Dean snuck him into the blacksmiths, somewhere high they could take off from. Castiel’s wing hit one of the support beams resulting in a loud thumping noise, and Dean was forced to climb out of the window and shut Castiel inside when Charlie appeared.

“Dean? What are you doing here?”

“Oh, uh, hi, Char. I-I’m just, uh, y’know, studyin’.” He shrugged in an attempt at nonchalance.

“Uh-huh. You know, you’re acting weird, Winchester. Even for you.”

Dean chuckled nervously as he felt Castiel tug on the rope his wing was tethered to, trapping Dean against the window. The shutters gave in when Cas pulled again, and Dean was tugged inside. Charlie flung open the window, but the two were already gone, soaring around the back of the island, Dean admonishing Castiel until the Angel did a somewhat shaky barrel roll to take the human’s attention back to flying.

Charlie only saw two human figures, about their age, running away from the village, hand in hand.

 

That night, instead of flying, Dean asked Castiel what his parents were like.

“We don’t really have them.” Castiel squinted, as if trying to remember if he’d ever known any.

“What do you mean? Then how do new Angels get born?” Sam asked, before Dean could.

“Well, they don’t. They just…happen. My first memory is waking up in a cave and killing beetles until I learned to fly. Then I flew to the nest. I assume it’s the same for all of us.”

“So, ‘til you learned to fly, you were just…alone? Was that scary?”

Castiel shook his head. “The sea and the sky were pretty, and I never learned what fear was until I met other Angels, then humans. I was so scared the first time I saw a real human that wasn’t just an Angel-form, I panicked and flew away before they could see me.”

“…You must find it weird hat humans have two parents.”

Castiel tilted his head and looked at Dean. “I thought you just had your father.”

“We do, yeah,” Sam explained, somewhat impatiently, “but _most_ people have a mother, too. Ours died when I was a baby.” Ah, such a way with words.

“Oh, I…I’m sorry? I’m not sure…h-how, if you don’t mind my asking…?”

Dean shrugged. “A human-form Angel broke into our house and killed her in a fire. I remember it, just, I grabbed Sam from his cot and…there was fire, everywhere. Then dad told me to take Sam and run.”

“Must have been scary.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, but…y’know, it happened a long time ago.”

Castiel hummed, and Sam yawned, and Dean decided it was time for them to say goodnight.

~*~*~*~*

A few days after, John and his fleet returned, unsuccessful in their journey to find the nest. When he spoke to Bobby, he was brought no small amount of joy to hear that Dean was succeeding in his classes.

“So, he’s… _not_ harming the Angels?”

“No, not from what I can see. He jus’ shines a light with an axe, or pokes ‘em under their chin, and they’re like clay ‘in ‘is hands.” Bobby shrugged. “Natural talent, maybe. Either way, we’re havin’ a big dinner tonight, you can catch up with him then. You’ll’ve talked more than we do, he usually scarpers after training, takes Sam into the forest so they can have fun.”

John smiled, deep in thought. Maybe there was hope, after all.

~*~**~*

Their next flight, they took Sam. Dean made sure to tell Castiel what he was going to do next and observe Castiel’s warnings when the Angel was about to change something.

Sam gripped tight to his coat as they worked together to soar through the clouds and dip down to skim the surface of the waves with Castiel’s good wing, testing just how versatile the prosthetic could be. Once or twice Dean was too slow or too clumsy with changing his position and hold of the rope, so Castiel collided with some stacks of rock off the coasts of the island, and for that Dean was sorry, but Castiel didn’t seem to mind too much.

Dean gave too little warning when he pulled up, and Castiel screeched in protest before gaining height in the clouds. Castiel deemed them ready to speed up, and increased the beats of his wings. This was fine, until Dean dropped the paper he needed to know how to move. He scrambled to grab it, losing control of the rope and falling from the saddle. Sam clung to him desperately, but couldn’t hold on, so was left clinging to Castiel’s tail. The three fell, all screaming helplessly until Dean angled himself to face the Angel.

“ _Cas! Transform!”_ he yelled over the howling air.

Castiel span uselessly, but met his eyes, fear evident.

“ _Trust me, please!”_ Dean screamed. “ _Transform and grab the rope! You won’t be able to fly, but you can steady yourself!”_

Castiel searched his eyes for a moment more before flicking his tail towards Dean. Sam reached out, and after a moment of fumbling grabbed his brother’s hand. There was a flash of light and then Castiel was holding Sam’s other hand with his human one, wings still sprawled out behind him and the sheepskin jacket blown open. He tugged on the rope, getting the prosthetic under control and bringing both wings down in a powerful beat that slowed them considerably, just in time for them to hit the surface of the water without too much force. Castiel transformed again, diving deep to scoop the Winchesters from sinking. They broke the surface of the water with Dean on the saddle and Sam behind him again, and it didn’t matter that Dean had dropped his paper because as Castiel swooped and glided and rolled through the air, Dean found he could almost instinctively work with Castiel to fly.

 

The end of the day saw the three of them sitting on a beach, watching the sunset. After two transformations, Castiel was exhausted, and after all the excitement, Sam and Dean found their adrenaline crashing. Castiel ate whatever fish he could lazily catch, offering some to the humans whenever he remembered. Not that either of them would ever eat raw fish again, so Dean lit a fire and began to teach Sam how to roast the fish that Castiel hadn’t eaten yet.

As they ate, a horde of Weepers landed nearby and began to creep neared to their food. Castiel began to shoo them away, but couldn’t keep an eye on all of them. Dean began to panic, but as he watched Castiel and the Weepers interact, he calmed slightly. A green-ish Weeper, when denied one of Castiel’s fish, reared up on its hind legs to attack, but as it prepared its Grace to fire, Castiel let out a small puff of the power, igniting the Wepper’s Grace prematurely and sending it back down it’s throat, making the Weeper stagger away dizzily. Dean threw them a few fish to squabble over, and one of them hoped over to Dean and settled beneath his hand.

Sam began to play with the smaller Angels, and they scattered like birds when he got too close, only to settle down again shortly after. As the sun set, Dean saw Castiel’s scales reflect the light beautifully, and when Castiel caught him looking, Dean couldn’t help his blush.

Castiel transformed again, probably leaving his Grace depleted for a few days.

“I thought you didn’t want to be weak.” Dean repositioned himself, leaning against Castiel’s shoulder.

Cas hummed. “Being a human isn’t so bad.” He wiggled his human toes absentmindedly, and pulled his jacket further around him.

“Where do your clothes and saddle go when you transform?” Dean smirked.

Castiel sighed in amusement. “I conjure them. It uses up a little more power, but I’d say it’s better than the alternative, wouldn’t you?”

Dean snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.”

They stayed silent for a moment, watching the sun go down and Sam play with the small Angels.

“…Everything we know about you is wrong.” Dean murmured.

“Not everything,” Cas whispered back. “You know how to kill us.”

“I don’t.” Dean reminded him. “That’s why I needed these training classes in the first place. And then I just found ways around hurting you.”

“…Thank you.” Castiel hummed. “I’m so grateful for your help, and your friendship, Dean Winchester.” The Angel leaned closer to him and plated a small kiss on his cheek. Dean blushed furiously, but smiled.

“Can you teach me some Enochian?”

“Hmm…” Castiel hummed. “Olani hoath ol.”

Dean tried to mimic the phrase, but from Castiel’s stifled laughter, he failed. “Say it again?”

“Olani hoath ol.” Castiel stated, slower.

“O…Olani hoath…ol?” When Castiel nodded, Dean said it again, “Olani hoath ol. What does that mean?”

“It’s a very powerful phrase, Dean. If you say this, no matter where you are, I will always hear you, and I will always come and find you. If you say this to me, I will be there for you forever, no questions asked, and that I will trust you, both to make decisions with me and to make the decisions you must make on your own”

“Oh…” Dean whispered. It seemed wrong to speak any louder than this, in case the atmosphere around them was broken. “I…I love you, Cas.”

“Olani hoath ol, Dean.” Castiel smiled softly, then got up. “I think it’s time you take Sam home.”

Indeed, while they had talked, Sam had fallen asleep amongst the Weepers, most of whom had flown away.

They got back to the village just as the first stars began to show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment pls so ik what you thinkkkk


	6. Chapter 6

When Dean got to their home, cradling Sammy on his back, he was surprised to find their father there.

“Dad…you’re home!” Dean whispered, and signalled that John should wait while he put Sam to bed. When Dean emerged, John spoke.

“You’ve been keeping secrets, Dean. Big secrets. How long did you think you could hide it?”

Dean’s blood ran cold. “Uhm…What do you mean? I haven’t b-been hiding anything, dad, I…I don’t know what you’re—”

“ _Nothing_ happens on this island without me knowing about it. So, with that in mind, let’s talk about that Angel.”

Dean could feel his hands beginning to shake. Maybe, when he was dead, Castiel would learn to fly on his own. Or Sam could learn. “Uh, Ooh, geez, Dad, I’m sorry, I…I was gonna tell you, I just—”

Dean stopped speaking when John started laughing. “Y…You’re not upset?”

“’ _Upset’?_ Why would I be upset!? Oh, you’re destined for great things, Dean. Just wait until you behead your first Dark Angel! O-Or gut your first Cherub! All those years, I was worried you’d never kill an Angel! Now? Ugh! With you doin’ so well in your lessons, you’ll be able to kill that Dark Angel in front of the entire village sooner than you think! And what’s better? …We finally have something in common, something to talk about.” He sat across from Dean, leaning forward eagerly.

Dean sighed, unsure of what to say. He couldn’t kill any Angels, not now, not ever. But his dad was so happy.

John grunted, and pulled something out of his bag. “I brought you something. To keep you safe, in the arena.” He pulled out a helmet that looked a bit too big for Dean, and a small charm with a pendant: a twisted star encased in ring of fire. “The helmet is from me. The charm…that was your mothers. It has power, Dean. True power, to protect you from harm. She made it herself. I think that’s where you get your talent for ‘smithing, you know.”

Dean took the charm and the helmet, smiling softly. “Thanks, dad.”

“Wear them proudly. You deserve it, Dean. You’ve held up your end of the deal, and I’m proud of you.” He smiled, somewhat awkwardly, then got up. “Well, it’s late. You have class tomorrow, you should get to bed.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah, thanks dad. Goodnight!” Dean scurried to the brother’s room, clutching his gifts and a fair amount of guilt. He didn’t sleep easy that night.

~*~*~~*

The next day was the decider. Whoever got to kill the Dark Angel and end their training would win the right to do so here.

A cherub circled the arena, and Dean crouched behind the fence-panel cover they’d been given. Charlie glared and shoved his shield away from her. “Stay down. I’m winning this thing.” Then she rolled away, closer to the Angel. He watched her chase the Cherub around, hopping from cover to cover like a rabbit, but by the time she caught up with it, it had already found him, and a quick poke to the chin sent it into it’s state of euphoric calm. Dean felt guilty for not letting her hurt it, but also…he didn’t want to cause something harm when there were better ways. This way was better.

Chralie groaned angrily, and Dean made his way to the gate, ready to leave.

Bobby stopped him so he began to protest, “No, I have to, uh…I’m kind of late for something, I—”

“ _What_?!” Charlie pulled on his arm to turn him around. “Late for _what_?”

“Quiet, Quiet everybody! The decision has been made. Dean is to kill the Dark Angel in two days time, to become a fully-fledged Hunter!”

The crowd cheered, and the group celebrated Dean’s victory and opportunity, but Dean couldn’t have felt worse. Charlie wanted to kill the Angel, Jo wanted it even more. He couldn’t kill an Angel even before he’d fallen in love with one, there was no way he’d be able to now.

~*~*~~*

It was for that reason, then, that he decided that he and Castiel would leave. Fleeing the island felt more favourable to any alternative, and as he made his way to the Cove, he was surer with every step. Sam had packed hurriedly, ready to go as soon as Dean had suggested it.

“OK!” He yelled when he pushed through the rocks into the Cove. “We’re going! We are leaving. I can’t stay here, so pack up, come on, let’s go!” He knelt to drop his bags and find the food pouch among them, full of fish and thankfully eel-free since the first time he’d fed Cas.

When he stood, however, it wasn’t Cas he was met with.

Charlie stood at the top of the rocks, and she hopped down to the beach as if she’d been doing it her whole life.

“Ch-Charlie? What…what are you doing here?” Dean instantly scanned the clearing behind her, searching for any sign of the Angel. Surely he wouldn’t react favourably if he saw the axe Charlie was hefting.

“I want to know what you’re up to. Both of you.” She glanced between the brothers, glaring. “You’re both acting weird, and I heard you talking when you came down here the other week, about ‘Cas’, something-or-other? And no-one just _gets_ to be as good as you are. So: is this ‘Cas’ training you or something? Are you cheating?”

Dean stuttered and stumbled back as Charlie advanced on him, still spouting accusations. She nudged the saddle with her foot. “Does _this_ have something to do with it?”

“Uh, OK, you got me, I-I’ve been…teaching Sam how to make outfits! See, so, just take us back to the village, show them all wat we’ve been up to, and—”

But Charlie wasn’t listening to him anymore. Because the more she’d advanced on him, the louder something else had gotten. Something big, with large, dark, feathery wings sprouting from its shoulder blades, one torn from a bad landing so many moons ago. Something with a scaly hide, a long tail, and, at least in this form, a head that looked like a large lizard, the ones the village kids often saw near rivers. Something dangerous.

Something angry.

Charlie stared at it as it approached, then screamed when it pounced. She pushed Dean down and swung her axe, aiming it for the creature’s head.

In a flash, Dean had ripped the axe from her and thrown it away, and was now standing between it and her. Sam held her down for a few moments while Dean spoke.

“No, no, it’s OK. She’s a friend, she’s just confused. It’s OK, she’s not gonna hurt you.” The beast screamed, and Charlie couldn’t stay down anymore, struggling to her feet. Dean gestured that she should stay still and turned his attention back to the Seraph. Over the time they’d spent together, he’d forgotten what everyone else thought of them. He’d forgotten how dangerous Seraph’s could be. But not to him, not this one. “Calm down, Cas, it’s OK. I promise. _Olani hoath ol.”_

Castiel locked eyes with him, and after a moment, nodded, stepping back calmly, but still wary of the newcomer. Dean turned to Charlie, hand resting on Castiel’s forehead. “You just scared him. It’s OK.”

“ _I scared him?! HIM?!_ ” Charlie yelled, still in fight-or-flight mode, wanting to get as far away from the Angel as possible now that she had no weapon. “W…Wait…You said ‘Cas’. Th… _This_ is Cas?!”

“…Yeah. Castiel, meet Charlie. Char, meet Cas.” Dean glanced at Sam, who had moved Charlie’s weapon out of Castiel’s sight and was now doing his best to calm her down.

Castiel growled angrily, not taking his piercing blue gaze from Charlie. Her eyes widened in understanding, and she shook her head minutely. Then she ran.

Dean sighed. “And we’re dead.” He turned to see Castiel already running the other way. “No, come back here!”

 

Charlie ran. She ran as fast as she could, for as long as she could. Over the hills, through the frees, and back to the village. It was a pretty simple course, but she didn’t make it. She jumped from a boulder to get further up the hill, but was caught before she could fall by two scaly feet and whisked into the air. She screamed, watching the ground as it shrunk as they went higher. Then she started to fall.

She grabbed onto the nearest thing she could—a tree branch, one of the highest in the forest. Great black wings flapped, making the tree sway in protest as the Angel landed on the top of the tree. It wilted, leaving her hanging desperately over a clearing. She looked at the Angel’s riders, and yelled.

“Dean, get. Me. _Down_!”

“Just…let me explain. Please. Give me a chance.”

“Why would I listen to you?! You lied to us for _weeks_!” She moved her grip further up the branch, getting a sturdier hold.

“OK, OK, fine, but let us show you. You don’t have to listen. Just…come and see.” He offered a hand to her, and after a second in which she seriously deliberated if a fall from this height could kill her, she pulled herself up. Sam helped her sit on the back of the saddle, between them. Castiel grunted slightly, more out of annoyance than anything, when she touched him, but let her climb up.

“Let me down, now.” Charlie ordered them, and Dean mumbled.

“Cas, please bring her down gently?”

Castiel stretched his wing, forcing Dean to copy, and waited until he felt the breathing of all three passengers steady. Then he jumped, straight up, at the fastest speed he could. Dean was forced to co-operate or make them crash, so he picked the former and hoped Cas would calm soon.

Charlie screamed behind them, and it took Dean a moment to notice that they were both screaming, too.

Castiel took them on an erratic and zig-zagged path through the clouds, spinning and rolling as violently as he could. Charlie, without a rope tying her to the Angel, began to slip, and Dean yelled. “ _Cas! What is_ wrong _with you! This isn’t helping!”_

As soon as Charlie managed to hold onto him again, Castiel decided to dip as fast and as straight as he could to the sea, plunging under the waves for mere seconds, then pulling them up again. Then back under, then up, straight up, into the sky once again.

“Cas, Cas—stop!” Dean pleaded, but Castiel just started to spin, making Charlie scream again. He could feel Sam clinging on, unable or unwilling to scream. They’d both ridden like this enough to know that Castiel wouldn’t hurt them, and Dean was certain of his ability to keep up with Castiel’s flight. The Angel dipped again and Dean leant down and murmured to him, “Thank you for nothin’, Cas.”

“OK, OK!” Charlie screamed over the howling wind, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, OK, just put me down!”

Before Dean could react, Castiel beat his wings to slow them, leaning to eh left slightly when Dean took a second to catch up with the abrupt change.

Suddenly, the flight evened out, and became slow and soothing. Casteil slowly climbed to the clouds, so when Charlie opened her eyes, she was surrounded by sun-painted fluff. Sam laughed as Castiel entered a slow loop-de-loop and flew higher still, above the clouds. They gently dipped down again, around Lawrence. The village was lit u with lanterns and reflected in the still surface o the waves and it was beautiful.

“…OK, I admit, this…this is pretty cool…” Charlie whispered, and Castiel hummed in response. “You’re pretty amazing, you know that, Cas?” She reached down do pat him gently. “Now what?” Charlie asked this question to Dean, but he didn’t know how to answer. “Dean, you’re going to have to… _you know_ ,” she looked meaningfully down at Cas, “ _in two days_. What are you going to do?”

None of them noticed when Castiel perked up below them, so they were all caught off guard when he made a sudden swoop down. Dean corrected their course as fast as he could, concentrating on where Castiel was trying to go.

“Cas, what’s happening?” Dean hissed as they flew into an encroaching fog.

Something to their left screeched and two Angels came into view, one Fledgling, one Cherub. They had things gripped in their claws, and they growled at Castiel as they swooped past. Dean lay low next to Cas, hiding himself among the feathers. The others copied him, staying as close to Castiel’s body as they could. Castiel followed the other Angels as they flew, and slowly more and more Angels appeared through the fog, of all breeds, some Dean couldn’t even name.

“Get us out of here, please, Cas…” Dean whispered to him, but the Angel shook it’s head.

“What’s happening?” Sam hissed.

“I don’t know,” Dean murmured back, scanning the clouds. There must have been dozens of Angels around them, all with food gripped tightly to their bodies.

“They…They all have food.” Charlie whispered to him.

“Yeah…”

“Cas doesn’t…he…he just has us.” Charlie finished, voice going higher at the end. She was terrified, and Dean wasn’t doing much better. He knew…he thought he knew that Cas would never hurt them, but with no other information to go on, he was starting to get doubts.

All at once, as one, the Angels swooped low, weaving between rock stacks and closer to their destination: a mountain.

A mountain of fire.

They flew through a crack in the rock and to the glowing centre of the volcano, and the screeching got louder.

There were hundreds of Angels in the mountain, all carrying a load. They would fly through the centre, drop their kill deep into the orange-tinted obscured depths and then fly off. Castiel avoided the centre of the cave, landing on a ledge on the edge of the stone walls. They watched as the Angels tipped all their food into the hole, and Sam pointed to a small Cherub, struggling to grip the end half of a fish. It puttered to the centre and dropped its measly spoils, and tried to fly upwards and away as fast as it could.

Not fast enough.

A huge Angel, bigger than anything Dean had ever seen, raised itself from the depths. It opened its vast jaws, and ate the Cherub whole, easily, before sinking back into it’s fog again. Castiel drew back below them in fear, as did the other Angels around the cavern.

“ _What…is…that…?”_ Charlie whispered to him. He didn’t know so he didn’t answer.

“Alright, Cas, we have to get out, _now_.” Dean hissed, and Castiel moved. The movement drew the attention of the beast, and it swiped its terribly great jaws at them. Seraphs were famously quick, but Castiel only just avoided being ripped apart by it’s teeth, the smallest of which was still bigger than Dean.

The Beast clambered from its rest, father up the mouth of the volcano as every Angel in the mountain decided to fly away from its anger as quick as they could.

~*~*~*~*

“No, it makes sense. It’s like a hive. They’re the workers, and that is their queen!” Charlie explained, as Castiel landed them in the cove. The three jumped off, Charlie beginning to lead the Winchesters back to the entrance.

“Not quite,” an unfamiliar voice made her turn, and her eyes widened when she saw that in place of the Seraph’s true form stood a pale-skinned, dark-haired, blue-eyed boy, about their age.

“ _Cas?”_ She breathed, not missing how Castiel threaded his hand with Dean’s.

“Hello, Charlie. Sorry about the wild ride, but I did fear that you deserved it. It’s not like a hive. That was an Archangel, the last of it’s kind. It’s name is Lucifer.”

“ _Archangel_?!” Sam exclaimed, and Castiel looked down at him.

“That’s what I said. There used to be more, but Lucifer killed them, in a great battle, before humans had emerged from the seas. He threatens us; we are to bring him food, and if we don’t, then he will get it himself, in the form of humans. The closest settlement is yours. We steal your food when we cannot find our own to keep you alive.”

“Y…you’re protecting us…and we murder you.”

“Well, obviously not all of us. When you attacked, some believed that Lucifer _should_ kill you all. Those Angels have been cast out, their powers revoked by the rest of us. We don’t have to power to do that to Lucifer, but I believe you call the others ‘Fallen’. After a few days of being cut off from their power, they revert to the weaker human form. Then they live as human until they die.”

“So, what, Fallen Angels just…become human?” Charlie spoke.

Castiel hummed. “No. They lose their wings, and keep a limited amount of Grace until it depletes. When they use their Grace in their Human form, instead of blue, their eyes glow yellow. It is a mark, warning others about the Fallen one. If we see a yellow-eyed human, we know in fact that they have brought shame to themselves, and us all.”

They stayed silent for a moment. “We have to find your father. We need to tell him all of this.” Charlie turned, ready to run to the village again.

“No, no wait!”

“We can’t!” Sam and Dean both protested.

“Not yet.” Dean continued. “They’ll kill Cas, we can’t let that happen, Char, we have to think this through.”

  She stared at him in disbelief. “Dean, we just discovered the Angels’ _nest_. We’ve been looking for that for generations, and you want to keep it a secret?! For what, to protect _one_ Angel? Are you serious?”

“Yes. I am. He’s not just one Angel, Char, and I think you know that.” Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand and moved to stand in front of him, as though if Charlie did attack them he could stop her. Sam gabbed Cas’ other hand, and the Angel smiled sadly at both of them. And when Charlie looked in his eyes, she could see an emotion that she understood.

“…OK. Then what do we do?”

“I-I don’t know. We’ll think of something, just…wait until tomorrow.” Dean sighed, wiping his forehead with his hand.

“Alright.” Charlie nodded, then hit him. “That was for kidnapping me,” then she hugged him, pulling Cas and Sam in too, “that is for everything else.” Then she let go, and ran.

The next day, they ate together, at the Cove, Dean leaning heavily on Castiel and Charlie and Sam on a nearby rock.

“So, what, are you two together, or something?” Charlie spoke up, interrupting their amiable silence.

Dean choked on his food, and Castiel rubbed his back soothingly. “Uh…yeah, I think so. Cas?”

Castiel nodded. “Mhm, if you still want to be.”

Charlie nodded. “Huh. Well, OK, then.”

“What, that’s it?” Dean grinned. “You just ask outta nowhere and then pretend like it didn’t happen?”

“Well, I had to know if you were plannin’ on making a move on Jo.” Charlie met his gaze meaningfully.

“Who’s Jo?” Castiel grunted, head tilted in confusion.

“A girl from our training class. She and Char--- _oohh_. _That’s_ why you got mad when we hung out that time. You thought we were…that I was…oh.” Dean’s sudden wave of realization made Castiel laugh, and the Angel planted a quick kiss to the human’s temple as Dean went over the events of the past few weeks where Charlie had gotten angry at him. “You don’t hate me, you’re just jealous!”

Charlie threw a fish tail at him, making Sam laugh, then she turned to Cas.

“OK, so, I have a question for you, Angel-boy.”

Castiel nodded, allowing her to ask away.

“In training we learned that certain symbols had certain properties that would weaken an Angel.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Castiel said patiently, waiting for the question.

“What I wanna know is, are there any symbols that do the opposite?”

Dean and Sam turned their attention to Cas as he pondered the question.

“It is rumoured that if a human gives their power to us through certain sigils, we can use their lifeforce to strengthen ourselves, but no human has ever done so, as far as I know. We could try, though.”

Sam hopped off his rock and reached into his bag, pulling out a small pot of red ink. “Will this work?”

“We can try.” Castiel shrugged, finishing his food and instructing Sam the lines to paint on his forearm. As he described it, Dean realised that he was explaining the reverse of a symbol they’d been taught. Horizontal lines, not vertical, upstrokes, not down.

When Sam stepped away, they looked expectantly at the sigil.

Nothing happened.

Then, Castiel tried conjuring some Grace.

The shot that he fired was unexpected, even for him, and way more powerful than any he could have fired a few moments before.

“Well, I…uh, I suppose that answers that, then.” Castiel mumbled.

They spent that night seeing just how many symbols they could cram on Castiel’s arms. Dean found it funny that as well as seemingly making him more powerful, it also made him a little drunk, evident when he hugged Dean hard and demanded someone teach him how to dance, because he’d always wanted to try it.


	7. Chapter 7

The day of the ceremony arrived, and none of them had any ideas about what to do about the nest.

Dean found himself in the arena, hearing his father make a long and useless speech to the Hunters. He heard fragments, only, about him finally becoming one of them, a true Hunter. Someone to make his parents proud.

“Be careful out there. Remember what Cas said about the Dark Angel; they’re more vicious than other Angels.”  Charlie’s voice was quiet, and he turned to face her.

“It’s not the Angel I’m worried about,” Dean laughed emptily, looking back as his father made his way to the large stone-carved chair at the back of the arena-top, where Hunters of all ages gathered around to watch.

“So…What’re you gonna do?”

“I…I have to try. I’m going to try to stop all this killing. If I can show them that we don’t have to hurt them, maybe they’ll learn. Char,” he turned to her, “if something does go wrong, make sure they don’t find Cas. Tell him what happens, bring him some food or something, please. Promise me.”

“I’ll do that, as long as you promise nothing’ll go wrong.” She ran a hand through her red hair, smiling sadly.

He didn’t have time to answer; Bobby appeared at the gate to let him in. “It’s time. Good luck, boy.”

Dean nodded and entered the arena’s main area, staring at the gate Bobby stood by, ready to open. He placed the helmet his father had given him on his head, and gripped the charm from his mother, and sent a quick prayer to the Gods that this would end favourably. He picked up a shield from the rack, and the smallest dagger there was.

The gate slid open, and the fiery, furious form of the Dark Angel burst from it’s confines, screeching terribly. It hurled itself around the arena, scratching at the walls with it’s long claws and scorching the stone with its skin.

It launched the first of it’s Grace shots, (seven, if Dean recalled correctly,) into the crowd, then its head spun on it’s long neck to face him. It crawled towards him slowly, taking him in, and drew back, ready to strike if he moved. Dean lifted his knife slowly, and looking the creature straight in the eyes, dropped the weapon, kicking it across the arena. The Angel looked from the knife to him, and Dean heard the mumbles of unrest from the crowd, but he knew what he was doing. He felt a hundred eyes on him, more than a hundred, but he only really cared about the bright blue ones who weren’t even there.

The Angel approached him, and he held out his hands, mumbling soothing words in a broken mix of English and Enochian. He took off the helmet, realising why the Angel was still wary, and placed it at his feet.

“It’s OK, it’s OK. I’m not one of them.” He’d meant the comment to be quiet, just between the two of them, but in that rare occasion where everybody’s conversations die down at once, his words were like a thunderclap on a quiet night.

“Stop the fight.” John’s gruff voice was the only one that broke the silence.

“No, wait, I need you to see this: look!” Dean rested his hand against the Angel’s snout, and it pushed lightly against him. “We’ve been wrong about them for so long. We don’t have to be killers.”

“ _I said stop the fight!”_ John’s voice raised, as did he, and he hit the metal fence around the arena, causing a loud, reverberating sound. The Angel spooked, and drew back, all semblance of calm shattered like thin ice under a skater’s foot. It bit at Dean, and he only just had enough time to get out of the way before it fired a powerful shot around the ring. Dean tripped on the dagger he’d kicked away and fell against the wall. The Angel pounced at him, pinning him to the floor.

Dean closed his eyes, ready for it to strike.

“ _I’m so sorry, Cas, I tried, but they wouldn’t listen, please, please be OK, Olani hoath ol.”_ The saying was more of a reflex than anything; the final words of a desperate boy, but it was that fear, that emotion, that meant Castiel knew something was wrong.

_Across the island, unbeknownst to anyone living there, Castiel’s true form ears perked up, and a shiver ran down his spine, and he knew. He knew there was danger, and he knew Dean needed him there._

Dean, meanwhile, had found a way to roll away from the Angel, and was now in the middle of an unfortunate game of cat-and-mouse. Above him, John pushed his way to the gate, but wasn’t as fast as Charlie, who slid through the fence and into the arena, ready to help him.

 

_Castiel leapt, grabbing the roots to the tree he had been sleeping under to pull himself out of the Cove. He fell, again and again, he fell. He launched himself from rock to rock, scrabbling for purchase on the foliage above. He flapped his wings as hard as he could, desperate to get out with as much power as he could keep._

Dean grabbed a shield before the rack was destroyed when the Angel tumbled over onto it. Charlie tugged him out of the way of it’s tail, but the Dark Angel was large, and if they dodged the tail, the head was nearby. It seemed like there was no escape.

_Castiel was out. He bolted though undergrowth, feeling the knotted grass snag on his feet, ducking under branches and swerving around boulders. He had to get to Dean. He had to get to Dean. He flew the small hops he could manage without a rider, wishing he could fly further, run faster._

John burst into the arena just in time to see Jo throw a hammer at Charlie from the fence. Charlie caught the weapon and span, using its momentum to launch it at the Angel’s head. It hit, and the beast turned to run after her. John grabbed her, pulling her out of the ring, and waving to Dean to get him to run towards them. The Angel fired it’s Grace at the gate, making him reflexively turn on his heel and run the other way. Right into its path.

It cornered him, pinning hi with a scaly foot and long, sharp claws. Dean grappled with it, trying to free himself.

Something screeched, and the Dark Angel screamed, suddenly preoccupied by a dark shape with a canvas wing. Castiel clawed and bit at the Dark Angel’s rough skin, and Dean saw its dark blood pour from Cas’ barrage of anger. The message, at least to him, was clear:

_If you hurt him, I hurt you._

Castiel fought the Dark Angel until it limped into the cage of its own volition.

“Is... Is that a _Seraph?!”_ Someone yelled. 

Dean shoved Castiel’s snout when he came to check on the human, panicking. “No, Cas, you can’t be here. Thank you, but you can’t be here, they’ll catch you, they’ll kill you. Get out!”

And suddenly, Dean wasn’t the only human in the arena, as Hunters bustled into the ring from the hole Cas has blown in the fence.

Dean continued to try and push Castiel away, but the Angel wouldn’t budge. He heard Charlie scream, and saw John grab an axe and run towards them. Dean yelled in protest, stepping in front of Cas to shield him.

“Dad, no, he won’t hurt you!”

They attacked him. They gripped their weapons and ran at him without even thinking. They were Hunters, and Castiel was the prey.

Cas swerved around him, ready to keep protecting them both, as if the village would hurt Dean. Dean called out for Cas, or the Hunters, or both, to stop, that they were only making this worse, but no one listened. John launched himself at Castiel, who pounced back, sending both of them sprawling. Castiel landed above John, and reared back, ready to attack.

Sam screamed. Dean did too. Castiel looked back at both of them, snapping out of his panic and realising who he was attacking. He looked up at Dean, panting softly. They stared at each other for moments, recovering their breaths. Then John punched the Angel. Castiel reeled back, caught unprepared, and another Hunter grabbed him, wrestling him down. More of them held him down and Dean reached out to stop them, but Charlie and Jo held him back.

 “ _No! No, please!_ Charlie, p-please, I have to help him! _Cas! CAS!”_ Dean’s voice was horse, and when he couldn’t scream, Sam did. Ash was holding him back from the arena, and they shared a look. Dean was shaking, and sobbing, and he couldn’t breathe. He heard Castiel cry in fear and pain as the Hunters crushed him.

John stood, looking between Den and Castiel. “Put it with the others.” He ordered. “I’ll deal with it later.”

Then he grabbed his sons by the arms and pulled them towards the hall.

“I should have known.” The heavy doors slammed behind them, and Dean had to catch Sam to stop him from falling. “I should have known you weren’t doing what you were supposed to to, what you were told. We had a deal, Dean!”

“I-I know, dad, but it all just…it all happened, and I couldn’t do it, I had to keep him safe, oh, this is so messed up…”

“So, what, everything you did, fighting those Angels, it was all a lie?”

“No! No, I learned from Cas, he taught me things about how to…peacefully control them. I should have told you, I messed up, but I’m begging you, please—”

 “And what’s worse, you got Sam involved? That thing is dangerous, and you put your brother near it!”

“He’s not dangerous, he-he’s scared, and defensive, and please, _please_ , take this out on me, punish me, but don’t hurt Castiel, please. None of this is his fault, dad…”

“’ _Castiel’_? Oh, is that what it’s called?”

“Yes! All Angels capable of shifting have names! He told me!”

“You believe everything it tells you? They’ve killed our people, Dean. Hundreds of people—”

“We’ve killed _thousands_ of them, and they’re only trying to help!”

“That’s what it _tells_ you, Dean, but you can’t trust it! One of them killed your mother!”

“So? That wasn’t Cas’ fault! I trust him, dad, he’d never—”

“Mary trusted Azazel!”

Dean blinked, suddenly silent. “Who…Dad, who’s Azazel?”

John sighed. “Azazel…was the Angel that killed your mother. He was in human form, we didn’t know he was an Angel, but…he appeared, one day, off shore. We thought he’d been lost to his own tribe, and Mary…felt sorry for him. She invited him into our home, and he _killed her._ That’s why we kill Angels. Because they…they lie, and steal, and—”

Dad, I’m sorry, but that was _one_ Fallen. Not every Angel is like that, Hell—most of them are protecting us! They have to steal our food so the _thing_ in their nest won’t kill us _all_!”

John looked like he was about to argue, but at Dean’s omission, he fell quiet. “…You’ve _been_ to their nest? …You can take us to it.”

“N-No, I can’t only an Angel can find the mountain, I don’t know—oh, no. No, dad, please--” He saw John’s expression change as the thoughts in his brain turned over.

“What?” Sam pulled his sleeve, confused.

“Dad’s going to use Castiel to find the mountain. Then he’s going to kill them _all_. But dad, you’ve never seen anything like this. It’s called and _Archangel_ , a-and you can’t fight it. You can’t win, dad, for once in my life, _please_ , listen to me!” Dean grabbed John’s arm, but the Chief waved him off, pushing him to the ground. Sam pulled him up.

“You’re on their side. You’re not a Hunter. You’re not my son,” John left them in the hall, alone but together, and in the dark. Outside, he called. “Ready the ships, and the Seraph! We’re going to their nest!”

He didn’t dare look back, lest he regret and run back to them.


	8. Chapter 8

Every Hunter on the island packed their weapons that day, and made their way onto the longboats at the base of the island. The children of the clan watched from the docks as a hundred boats filled up with hundreds of Hunters.

John watched as a group of Hunters wrestled the Seraph, in its weak and human form, onto his boat at the head of the fleet. They had forced it’s transformation. He would tell the creature that if it ever wanted to see Sam and Dean again, it would take them to the nest. When they got there, they would kill every Angel that lived there. Then he himself would kill the monster that turned his own sons against him. And, when they got back victorious, he would tell the boys that the Angel they kept had betrayed them and had perished.

It would break their hearts. But it was what he had to do.

The Angel struggled against his bounds, trying and failing to move his wings and get away. John had left the prosthetic wing on simply because he didn’t care enough to work out how to take it off. The beast cried out in pain and anguish, but its cries were met with nothing. It wished it could transform to break out, but was prevented from doing so by the symbols and witchcraft painted on it’s skin.

The Hunters boarded the boats, and they were ready. “Lead us home, _beast_.” He murmured to the Angel. Cas glared, but stayed silent.

 

From higher up the island, Dean stared. He watched Castiel be forced around, listened to him scream for his friends, for Dean, until he couldn’t take in any more. But turning away would feel too much like abandonment. Beside him, Sam cried.

If John saw them, he ignored them.

Dean became aware of a presence behind them, and Charlie’s voice broke their silence.

“You must feel terrible; you’ve lost everything: Your father, your love, your tribe.”

“Thank you, for summing up my misery. I haven’t lost everything. I have Sam. We have each other.” Dean pulled his brother closer to him, to illustrate his point. “I should have killed Cas when we first met. It would have been easier, and then none of this would have happened.”

Charlie hummed. “The rest of us would have, that’s for sure.” She turned to him when the boats drifted out of view, obscured by fog. “So why didn’t you?”

Dean thought for a second. “I dunno. I’m a coward? I couldn’t do it, I…I was afraid. But…so was he. I looked at him, and…I just…I knew, I wouldn’t kill an Angel.”

“Which was it? You couldn’t, or you wouldn’t?”

“Both! I wouldn’t! I wouldn’t kill him while he looked so helpless, and by the time he didn’t look at me like that anymore, I knew I could never hurt him! So, what?!” Dean stood, wiping his face with his hand while he breathed deep. “Hundreds of years, and I’m the first Hunter who wouldn’t kill an Angel, even when I had the perfect chance.”

“…First to ride one, though.” Charlie said, quietly.

“First to teach one how to fly again.” Sam nodded.

“You learned so much from him, Dean, you’re the first Hunter to pass training without hurting _a thing_. Not that it matters.” Charlie finished, earning puzzled and offended looks from the brothers. “Well,” she continued, “He’s afraid _now_. He’s hurt, now, too. You said you loved him. Are you just going to leave him like that?” She poked his chest with an accusatory finger. “Are you still a coward?”

Dean sighed. “…I guess we have to do something stupid, then.”

“No,” She argued, “you’ve already done that. What are you going to do _now_?”

Dean smirked, finally getting it. “I— _We’re_ gonna do something crazy.” Then, he grabbed their hands and pulled them in the direction of the village.

 

It didn’t take them long to round up the others. But before they did, Dean told Sam to go and get his paints from their home, as well as all the rope as he could carry. Waving away Charlie’s confused look, they went to collect their friends and headed to the arena.

“Wait, are you planning on getting us eaten or something?” Ash pulled him back when he started to unlock the first gate in the arena.

Dean pulled away. “Not quite.” Then, he unbolted the gate.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The foggy waters were not easy to navigate. They could be sailing somewhere that looked to be clear, then get hit by a rock and start to sink. What’s more, he had no action plan, or way of telling which direction the boat was going.

John turned to face the Angel, who was twitching and growling in it’s cage. “Where to, beast?”

They passed a boulder, sticking up from the waves, and the Angel perked up, staring into nothing and twitching its feathery wings.  Then, like a switch had been flicked, it snapped its head right, seemingly hypnotised by a path they couldn’t see.

John hurried to the back of the boat, where the Hunters cradles their oars, rowing gently. He directed them to follow where the Angel pointed them, and the boat (and all the others behind it,) began to follow the Angel’s gaze, swerving past stump and stack as they came. Suddenly, the Angel seemed to panic, struggling against its entrapment. The boat hit shingle and stopped.

As the fog cleared, the Hunters saw the mountain, gigantic in both size and importance. They’d been searching for this for years.

John hopped off of the boat, soon joined by the others in the fleet, and readied his weapons, as did the other Hunters.

They were ready to fight.

~*~*~*~*

They were ready to fly.

It hadn’t taken Dean long to subdue the Angels again, and though the Dark Angel was a little rough, it eventually listened to him. As he lured it from its cage, Max scooped up a spearhead from the ground, but Jo batted his arm.

“If Charlie says Dean knows what he’s doing, then I trust him. If he says no weapons, that means _no weapons_ , Max.”

Dean was aware of their conversation, or rather, Jo’s order, but he was too busy keeping eye contact and mumbling snippets of Enochian to the Dark Angel. He walked backwards, towards the group, keeping one hand on the snout of the Angel as it followed him. When he was close enough, he reached and took Ash’s hand, replacing his own on the snout of the Angel with his, ignoring Ash’s protests.

“Relax. Breathe. If you don’t hurt it, it won’t hurt you.”

Ash put his hand on he creature, and after a moment, let out a light exhale. Dean stepped away, and Ash panicked. “No, where are you going?”

“Relax. It’s OK. You’re gonna need something to help you hold on.” He made his way to the edge of the arena, where Sam tossed down five lengths of rope, then hopped down himself, and started to open the other cages, letting the Cherub, the Fledgling, and the Aasimar out alongside the Dark Angel.

“Now, who wants what?” Dean grinned. As they chose and saddled their Angels, he turned to Sam. “Got the paint?”

Sam nodded, indicating his shoulder bag.

*~*~*~~*~*

The Hunters busied themselves as they prepared for the battle, carving long stakes to plant in the ground along the shore, protecting their boats.

John discussed the attack plan. “When we do this, all Hell’s gonna break loose.  We attack the front, and pray we don’t get surrounded.” It was a weak plan, but it’s what they had. As cannons were readied, John held up a hand. When they were ready, he clenched his fist, and they fired. Their ammunition hit the mountain at full force and close range, and the rock shattered. 

But no Angels.

John, armed with a shield and a heavy metal hammer, made his way to the closest part of the mountain they had broken. He signalled, and a flaming boulder of twine and moss was launched into the cave, illuminating the walls.

Except, the cave had no walls. Just scales.

 _Hundreds_ of angels of all types clung to the rock inside the mountain, and when John screamed to announce to the Hunters that their enemy had been found, all of the Angels launched themselves at him. He swerved and ducked and swung his hammer, to no avail. The Angels simply flew past him, and away from the island, not even acknowledging their would-be killers.

On the boat, Castiel saw this and sobbed, for he knew what was about to happen. He tried once again to escape.

John saw this and got the message, whether intended for him or not, that this wasn’t the end. He called for the Hunters to hold their ranks as a deep rumbling sound shook the island with enough force to turn the tide. The mountain cracked and moved, and the biggest Angel any of them had ever had nightmares of burst from its cave.

_The Archangel._

_Lucifer_.

The Hunters ran from the mountain onto to beach, lest they be crushed by the avalanche the Archangel had caused. It threw itself from the mountain, screaming ferociously, flashing its huge teeth and glaring with its many eyes.

 Hunters were squashed under its feet like a bug in grass, like they meant nothing, and John cursed himself. Catapults and cannons threw their best at the terrible Angel, but the ammunition rolled off of its thick hide as harmlessly as a fly on a mule.

It screamed at them again, and the Hunters fled to their boats.

This had been a mistake.

The Archangel finally unleased its powerful Grace, burning the boats and trapping the humans here. Hunters jumped from their boats into the illuminated seas as smoke danced above their heads on the surface.

But one boat wasn’t empty.

Castiel redoubled his efforts to wriggle from his binding, cursing the paint on his skin that prevented him from transforming and breaking the chains. He screamed, hoping that someone would hear him, that someone would care enough to help. It was futile, he knew, and eventually he ran out of fight.

He thought about things that made him happy, anything to take him away from this. Flying. His new friends. His time in the Cove. Charlie. Sam.

_Dean…_

_Olani hoath ol…_

He screamed it, simply for lack of a better thing to scream. “ _Olani hoath ol! Olani hoath ol!”_ He tried to scream it again, but the smoke got into his lungs and forced the speech from him. He couldn’t even cry, because the heat took away his tears.

On the island, John saw that the furthest boats had remained unharmed, mostly. He knew they could get most of the Hunters that hadn’t perished back to Lawrence, but he also knew that they would need to distract the beast.

Bobby joined him. “Let me help.”

The two men split up, making as much noise as they could over the racket of the crackling flames, the screaming monster, and the sobbing Hunters. They only had to distract it for a moment; it didn’t seem to have wings, so if the boat got out of firing distance, they’d be safe. John threw one of the stakes at its head, narrowly missing one of it’s eyes. The thing focussed on him and nothing else, until Bobby hit it too. The thing looked between them, maybe deciding simply which to kill first, but as it made its choice and reared up over John, something hit it’s head and sent it sprawling backwards.

John and Bobby, and indeed the other Hunters who hadn’t left yet, saw a fleet of four mismatched Angels swoop around the Archangel’s head, all led by a Dark angel with three riders: Charlie, Dean, and Sam. As John looked over the group he recognised the other Angel Trainees that they’d left behind in the village. He also noticed Dean, yelling silent commands at the group as they split up.

 

Dean wasn’t even sure if they’d heard him over the wind and Lucifer’s screams, but he yelled again for them to be careful, move faster.

“Jo, what do we need to do?!” He called, and she thought for a moment before calling back.

“Small eyes, lives in a cave, relies on it’s other senses, like hearing or smell! It has spines on its jaw, so probably a weak chin and neck! Large teeth and tail—I don’t need to tell you to avoid those!”

“OK, so, find a blind spot, make noise, keep it confused!” Dean called, before telling Charlie to pull her Dark Angel away from the group. “You two!” He called to the twins, when they were closer. “Find out how much power it has! Make it mad; make it shoot!”

The others nodded and went to work, Ash and Jo yelling and bashing the shields on their backs, making the Archangel confused, while Max and Alicia flew around its head, aggravating it.

Charlie flew her Angel around the boats until Sam yelled and pointed. She didn’t need to hear his words; her and Dean both knew what he’d seen. They made their way to the boat on which Castiel was still trapped, and Dean jumped from the Dark Angels back. Sam stayed put; after some squabbling they’d agreed that it was better if the younger Winchester stated off the burning boat, and on the bigger Angel.

Dean landed well, and instantly began working on the chains that held Castiel down. He called to Charlie and Sam to help the others, and Castiel stayed as still as he could to make it easier for Dean to free him. The Angel sobbed meaningless words, thanking him for coming back, begging for him to hurry, _I was so scared, Dean, I-I couldn’t even…_

Above them, the bashing noises Ash and Jo were making were beginning to backfire, working too well on their own Angels. Ash’s Cherub began to head towards the ground, and crashed harmlessly on the shingle. But Jo’s Angel, the Fledgling, had other plans. It tossed her off of it’s back and onto the Archangel, who was still trying to fins something to aim at. She pulled her shield from over her shoulder and began swinging it into the Archangels closest eyes, back and forth between them. It wouldn’t stand for this, of course, and tipped its head and stumbled, throwing her off. She grabbed onto one of its ridges, but dropped her shield.

 

On the boat, Dean had finally managed to saw through the last chain holding Cas down, but when the Archangel stumbled, its foot landed on the boat next to them. It collapsed, toppling over and breaking Castiel’s bounds. Dean leaped out of the way of the falling mast, but he wasn’t quick enough. As their boat began to sink, Dean found himself trapped and sinking, and running out of breath.

Something above him broke the water and suddenly Cas was there, above him as he hit the floor. Cas grabbed him, kicking the mast off of his body and pulling him towards the surface. The Angel’s body shone blue as the paint was washed away. Where his hand still gripped Dean’s shoulder, it burned, but suddenly they were in the boiling air, and Castiel had thrown Dean on to his True forms back. Cas swam to the island, giving Dean a place to wire up the prosthetic, but before they could fly, John grabbed Dean’s arm.

“ _Dean! I-I’m sorry! I…I’m sorry for everything. A-And your Angel, tell him I’m sorry, too…”_ John called.

Dean nodded. “You can tell him yourself, when this is over.”

“You don’t have to go up there—we could leave!”

“We’re Hunters. Saving people is our tribe’s _business.”_ Dean echoed his father’s oft-sited saying, leaving out the part that would get him thrown off the Angel he was tied to.

“I…I’m proud of you, son. And of Sam, too, both of you. I’m proud to call you my sons.”

Dean nodded at his dad as John let go of his arm. “Thanks, dad.” The he turned, and they flew.

Meanwhile, in the air, Charlie was finally able to get close enough to the Archangel to get Jo to jump to her. They dove away from Lucifer, but the Archangel lunged at them, jaws agape.

The hunters on the beach cowered as the dark shape of the Seraph flew overhead, but the Angel’s aim was true, and it fired a bolt of Grace straight down Lucifer’s gullet, allowing Jo and Charlie to get away. Dean caught Sam when he jumped from Charlie’s Angel to Castiel, and pulled out the paint from his bag, wasting no time in painting replicas of the symbols they’d painted on Castiel’s arms, just the night before.

But Lucifer was now after _them_. It seemed to recognise Castiel, as it screamed with renewed vigour and unfolded its back.

So it _did_ have wings.

Castiel turned in the air and shot at the other Angel again, this time with enough power to make it fall against the remains of the mountain. It flapped its huge wings, and gave chase.

Dean guided Castiel higher, taunting the Archangel.

Castiel may have been fast, faster because of Sam’s symbols, but Lucifer was surprisingly agile. So, they used their small size to their advantage, duking under the waves and around stacks, forcing the Archangel to follow their convoluted circle back to the island. They swerved into a cave in the mountain and through the other side, but Lucifer couldn’t move in time, and simply smashed right through it, sending shards of stone across the beach. Hunters hid behind their shields to avoid being impaled.

“Y’know, Cas, we’ve been flying together for ages, but…how high _can_ you go?”

Castiel’s true from grinned and made a sharp, 90 degree turn up into the clouds. Lucifer struggled to follow, giving them a head start, and when it fired it’s Grace at them, Castiel expected it, and dived away.

They flew higher and higher, higher than Dean had ever seen before. Castiel began to slow down and Dean’s body began to shiver as they went further into the clouds and it got colder. Behind them, Lucifer began to catch up. It opened its jaws as they went through another layer of cloud, but when it finally could see again, Castiel and the Winchesters had vanished. It searched desperately in the clouds for another glimpse of its target.

A strong blue blast hit the base of its jaw, and Castiel zipped past, firing shot after shot of Grace at Lucifer’s wings and soft jaw.

Back on the island, the symbol-enhanced power flashed like lightning, illuminating the silhouette of the Archangel against the clouds. The Hunters did all they could do: they watched, and they prayed.

Lucifer, seemingly tiring of this chase, unleashed the full power of it’s Grace. It struggled in the air, tossing its power as far and as much as it could.

It skimmed them, and Castiel’s prosthetic wing began to burn, which Dean took as their cue.

Castiel flew in front of Lucifer, making their presence known, and dived, as steep as he could, towards the sea.

Lucifer followed, of course, and as they moved back through the clouds, Castiel’s wing quickly deteriorating, the island came into view.

“C’mon, _c’mon, come on!”_ Dean urged, pushing Castiel to go faster.

Lucifer drew back to fire a final blast of Grace at them.

This was the opportunity they had been waiting for.

Castiel spun, letting his wing burn, and shot the last of his Grace straight down Lucifer’s throat. The Grace the Archangel had been preparing backfired, lighting up it’s insides. When Lucifer realised it was about to hit the island again, it shot out its wings to try and slow it’s fall, but they were burning, and full of holes from Castiel’s earlier attacks. The tears grew, and grew, and Lucifer hit the ground, head first, slumping to the sea in a blazing inferno taller than the mountain it had come from.

Castiel’s wing gave in, and now unable to fly, they began to fall.

 

The island was covered in smoke.

John told the Hunters to get onto the boats that were left, or on the backs of the Angels that had saved them, and go.

But he had to stay and find his sons.

He plunged into the heated fog, calling out to his sons, searching, though blind.

“ _Sam! Dean! Boys!”_ He turned around and the smoke settled, and—there! Out of the corner of his eye he saw singed black feathers and a scaly form.

He ran to his son’s friend, to the Angel, praying that they were nearby.

The Angel’s saddle was bear, and he was panting for air, but he was alive, at least. He groaned sadly, blue eyes finding John among the smoke only half consciously. His wings, or at least what was left of them, were curled around himself, as if comforting himself from a loss.

John knelt to him. “M-My sons. I…I did this. If I had just listened to them, trusted them, then…”

He was aware of movement behind him, but as he looked, it was merely the rest of his tribe. The tribe he had led to this disastrous fight. He heard the Trainees bustle forward, and the five identical gasps when they saw them, John and Castiel, together, on the sand.

Castiel groaned and seemed to become lucid, and John spoke now to him. “I…Dean said, that when this was over, I could speak to you. Well, it’s over. No more fighting your kind, I’m done. I’m _sorry_. I-Oh, _boys_ , _I’m so sorry…_ ”

Castiel considered him, and lifted his wing, the in-tact one, flopping over onto his back in exhaustion and revealing two human forms, so small next to his true form. He had both Sam, cradled in his front legs, and Dean, gripped as close to him as possible.

John fell forward to take them, to make sure they were alive. “ _Sam! Dean!”_ He held them to him, checking their pulses, Sam’s first, simply because he was closer.

 _There_.

Cradling his youngest son, he checked Dean over.

“They’re alive, oh, thanks the _Gods_! _They’re alive_!” He laughed in pure joy, eliciting an echoed cry from the crowd. “You…you saved them both… _Thank you, Castiel_ , thank you, for bringing them back to me.”

Castiel looked at him with his piercing blue eyes and nodded, softly.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean’s eyes shot open and air filled his lungs, making him cough and splutter. He sat up in his bed, too caught up in the severity of his cough to even realize why that fact was significant.

A gentle hand held has back, while another offered him water, which he took gratefully. He looked up, only to splutter the water out his mouth again when he saw who was with him.

Castiel sat on the bed next to him, in his human form, one arm curled around him, the other holding the glass.

“C- _Cas_?! What are you—You’re in my h-house, a-and… _Does my dad know you’re here_?!” Dean hissed, panic systems in overdrive.

Castiel smiled, and offered him the water again. “Hello, Dean. Relax, everything’s OK. Everything is alright, you’re _safe_ , it’s fine. How much do you remember?”

Dean took the glass and downed it, surprised at his own thirst. “I-I don’t…I remember being in the sky, w-with you, and Lucifer, and Sam— _Sam!”_

Castiel got up and refilled the glass from a pitcher atop the top of the desk across the room. “Sam is doing fine, he woke up a few days ago. I managed to hold him completely, he’s smaller than you, and you pushed him at me, so I--”

“Wait, wait, wait. _‘Days’_?” Dean stood to get closer to Cas, but had to sit again when he saw his foot. Or, rather, where his foot used to be. “Oh, my Gods…”

Castiel helped him stand again, and stood by him as he got used to he feeling of the new foot, a small metal thing with a spring that gave it a slight bounce as he stepped, attached to his leg by a sheath of cloth and some rope. Deans breathing sped up as be began to panic, but he held Castiel’s hand and felt his breaths, keeping to that rhythm. After a few moments, Castiel spoke.

“I’m sorry. With my wing burned, I couldn’t cover all of you. Bobby did what he could, though.”

“I-I…how many days have I been out?” Dean said, voice quiet, eyes still on the new foot.

“Weeks, actually. Two weeks. A lot has happened while you’ve been asleep, Dean. Would you like to see?”

Dean nodded, and tried to take another few steps. He leant heavily on Castiel, and walked slowly, but finally made it to the stairs. “I-I can’t—”

Castiel understood. “We can try stairs later.” Without another word, Castiel stooped and picked Dean up, one arm under his legs, one back around his back. “Just this once, though, Dean. Don’t get used to it.”

Dean snorted, and spoke softly. “Thanks, Cas. _Olani hoath ol…”_

Castiel rolled his eyes. “I know, Dean.”

 

When they finally got outside, Dean hobbling along with one arm over Castiel’s shoulder, they were met by a Dark Angel. Dean yelped in surprise, leaning more on Castiel for a moment in shock as Charlie cackled by on her Angel, followed by Jo, on a Fledgling, the twins on their Aasimar, and a Ash on a Cherub.

As Dean surveyed the village, he saw more Angels, crawling over the buildings and scaring the sheep, while Hunters went about their daily business like they weren’t there.

“Cas…am I dead?”

Castiel chuckled, as did John, who came to greet them.

“No, not quite, but it was touch and go for a moment. Whaddaya think?” He gestured to the village.

As they walked to the centre of the village, Dean leaning on Castiel less and less as they went and he adjusted to the new feeling, someone yelled, “ _Dean! You’re awake!”_

Sam came bolting up the hill to greet them, reaching up to throw himself around Dean’s shoulders. Dean would have fallen if Cas wasn’t there to hold him, and he laughed and clung to his brother.

Hunters gathered around him, congratulating him and wishing him well.

“Good ta see the foot works, then.” Bobby’s gruff voice made him grin.

“Yeah, thank you, Bobby, it’s great.” Dean grinned and leant on the prosthetic again, grabbing Castiel’s hand for balance.

Someone punched him, and he turned to face Charlie, who was glaring at him, her arm flung around Jo.

“That was for scaring me. I thought you’d died, Dean, and _then_ who was gonna bring fish to your boyfriend!”

The crowd sniggered and Dean rolled his eyes, but Castiel’s light squeeze of his hand made him smile. “Tell me, Char, are you always gonna punch me after I do anything you don’t like? Or is your girlfriend gonna teach you some manners?”

Charlie grinned and kissed Jo on the cheek. “I dunno, Winchester, what do you think?”

“Wait, Dean, I have something to show you!” Cas exclaimed, as if only just remembering. Bobby sighed and turned, picking up the ‘thing’ and handing it to Cas, who thanked him. “Bobby’s been teaching me how to do what you do, and I built a new wing!” He beamed as Dean took it, then chuckled sheepishly. “Well, Bobby did most of it, and Sam painted it, but I helped.”

Dean laughed, and unfolded the wing as much as he could. “You know, to look at this properly, I think we’ll have to try it out…”

 

So, they made their way to the top of the hill. Dean unfolded the kit to get ready to fit it, but something caught his eye.  “Cas, if you helped make this one, why…why did you make it with a saddle again? Couldn’t you just make it easier for you to use?”

Cas smiled at him. “I am able to take control if no one is in the saddle, but…Well, now the nest is gone, and the village knows more about us, it’s not like I have anywhere else I need to go. I…I don’t want to fly without you, Dean so we made a saddle that was actually fitted to my true form, and not just…a horse.”

“You…you’re staying?” Dean gaped at him, and when the Angel nodded, he flung himself at him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Castiel hugged back, then pushed him away.

“Come on, let’s try this thing out.”

They did, and it worked, and they were happy on Lawrence, together, for a very long time.

FIN.


End file.
